


Earth 3492: Mother Winter

by MamaDonovan



Series: Earth 3491 [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Brainwashed Sex, Brainwashing, Breeding, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Gang Rape, HYDRA Trash Party, Hero/Villain, Incest, Original Character(s), Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rule 63, Steve Rogers as the Winter Soldier, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 67
Words: 103,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3479483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaDonovan/pseuds/MamaDonovan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephanie Rogers Barnes aka Captain America, was declared KIA in the winter of 1944 after falling off of a train. While her husband Bucky took on the mantle of Captain America, she was found by Hydra and brainwashed to be their personal weapon, as well  as the key to building an army of Hydra super soldiers. As Mother Winter, she was the whore and mother of Hydra, but as Stephanie, she has to stitch her life back into place, including parts from both of her lives that she can never erase.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This AU was initially never to be written, but after a dare from the W.I.P (Work in Progress) Podcast, I decided otherwise. The live reading of this fic will be on the next episode of the W.I.P Podcast on the channel BlackNappa 101. And without further ado, my addition to the Hydra Trash Party.

Tony was alone on his couch with a mouthful of chicken lo mein when he received the call. The news made him force the food down his throat in a painful gulp. Natasha revealed that not only was the original Captain America alive, but all this time, she had been an assassin for Hydra. 

“So you want me to help you take her down?” He said calmly, even as he heard crashing and sirens in the background noise. 

“No, Cap is taking care of that.” It sunk both of their hearts to picture Bucky fighting against his own wife. It was hard enough for Tony knowing that his father had prided himself on making at least one thing for the government that was pure and good. Howard would be rolling in his ashes if he knew that Stephanie Barnes had fallen into the wrong hands, just like everything else he made.

“So what do you want? Are you calling in the Avengers?” 

“I’ll let Bucky make that call when he’s ready. I’ve leaked all of Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D’s files, and I need you to go through the intel on her. She should be labeled as ‘Mother Winter’.” 

“What, was ‘The Snow Queen’ already taken?”

“Make jokes on your own time, Stark. I gotta run.” Just as the explosions got louder, she hung up.

“J.A.R.V.I.S, pull up everything on this “Mother Winter” character. Let’s hope Romanoff didn’t WikiLeaks this shit for nothing.” 

His initial objective was to find out how Stephanie had survived all these years, but the clutter of files that hid the disgusting details of her life were too tempting not to browse through. The first thing Tony weeded out was the hundreds of mission reports, 99% of which were labeled successful. The next file he found, plainly labeled “schmutz,” would be Pandora’s Box. 

“I must warn you, sir. These files are extremely graphic.”

As soon as Tony double-tapped on the holographic icon, his entire living room flooded with thousands of pictures and videos that shocked every nerve and drained the color from his skin. The giant 85” video that had automatically played in front of him showed grainy footage of what appeared to be a meeting of the elite commanders of Hydra. The Red Skull dragged Stephanie’s limp and barely conscious body, which was covered in a satin black robe with red trimming and the Hydra logo embroidered on it, to the head of the table where he held her chin up to present America’s beloved “Star-Spangled Gal” like fresh meat to the table of predators. She had no cuffs or rope to restrain her, but the shades of pink and purple under her glassy eyes and the spit driveling down her chin indicated that they had managed to rip through her renowned spirit and unravel it like a delicate fabric. 

As the leader, Red Skull was the first to soil her with his cherry red hands. He threw her on the long metallic table and opened the robe to reveal her milky-white form with purple and green bruises sprinkled throughout. She winced and gasped when he prodded at them. He squeezed her breasts as he crawled up to mount her and unzipped his trousers. 

“With Captain America at our feet, we can now create the perfect race.” He announced as he traced the outline of her jaw with his fingers. When he stuck in thumb through her slightly parted lips, she didn’t bite or move her tongue at all, and her eyes stared off into nothing. It was like she wasn’t even there. 

The Red Skull shoved his hardened length in her and clutched tightly onto her sandy blonde hair that had sprawled out on the table, grunting and breathing on her face. He surprised everyone when he kissed lips passionately, like a lost lover had finally been returned to him. As he thrust faster, he pressed his whole body against hers and tugged on her hair harder exposing her neck for him to leave patches of hickeys as red as his skin. His climax came with a loud and long grunt, and he continued to hold Stephanie by her hair as he stood back up. 

“Gentlemen, help yourselves to the refreshments.” 

He threw her on her on her hands and knees, and whenever a Hydra commander whistled, she’d crawl under the table and service him without hesitation. They pulled her hair, kicked her in the chest, and skull fucked her until they were dry. One of the more colorful members, with a sock and crown on his head, clutched her wrist and roughly pulled her into his lap. He impaled her on himself, which made her clutch to him for support. As he squeezed her waist and shoved her up and down, she made small quiet moans in her mouth, the first sound she made this whole time. 

Finally, Tony unfroze to stop this video and throw it in the virtual trash bin. Each video after another was the same thing, “Mother Winter” being used as a soulless sex doll by the elites of Hydra, nameless goons, and even Captain America’s own S.T.R.I.K.E team. The time stamps indicated that these incidents of horrible degradation over the decades, starting from only two days after Stephanie Rogers Barnes was declared Killed in Action. 

“J.A.R.V.I.S….” Tony choked out as he swallowed down some vomit, “…The Red Skull said something about creating a perfect race. Find…all files pertaining to that.” 

“I shall take no pleasure in doing so, but here they are, sir. All files on ‘Operation: Winter Soldiers’ located.”

Tony fell to his knees and clawed his fingers through his hair after he opened the files, heaving as he felt his chest being crushed. Eleven video files opened which filled the room with violent wailing, all depicting Mother Winter giving birth to her Winter Soldiers. 35 individual birth certificates, produced in litters of 2-5, over the past seven decades, with the most recent ones being penned only five years ago.

“Call Bucky, and tell him….he needs to see this.”


	2. The Purebloods

Until Dr. Faustus was hired in 1946, the brainwashing techniques that Hydra used on Captain America were only partly effective. They tried several combinations of paralyzing agents, hallucinogens, and hypnotism, but the most they could do was keep her calm and confused for a few days at a time, sometimes she would be almost comatose. They kept her isolated in an abandoned warehouse in the Ukraine, imprisoned in a stainless steel vault for when Stephanie would “wake up.” She saw and spoke to no one, except for the frequent visit from the Red Skull, who wanted to feel his offspring kick. 

On a snowy December morning, she woke up to a soaked cot and intensely painful waves building in her abdomen. 

“Hey, Schmidt! Your cookies are done!” Stephanie was wide awake for this and humor was her opium. If she wanted even the slightest chance to escape, she’d need him to open the door, and soon. Her contractions were few far in between for now, so she might have had a chance to get her and the babies to safety before they arrived. No one answered her call. 

“I said they’re coming!” Right after she yelled, her belly sunk again in a powerful contraction that brought her close to tears. When the doctors finally arrived, she was whimpering on the floor, pretending she didn’t have the strength to stand. One of the perks Dr. Erskine told her about the serum when it came to childbearing, besides the fact that it was now an option for her, is that she would feel significantly less pain than the average woman. It still hurt like a bitch of course, but she could walk around, and hopefully run. 

Four doctors with coats and masks over their scrubs lifted her on the stretcher and handcuffed her to the side rails; one of them pulled out his walkie talkie to alert the commanders in Russian that the “Mother Hen” was about to lay her eggs. That’s so clever, very subtle, how did you come up with that one? Steph thought to herself and added a sarcastic groan to her real ones. As they went through the doorway to the empty birthing suite, she found the perfect moment to take out all four doctors at once. Right as they were halfway in, she kicked her legs up to heel two of them in the face which sent their heads crashing into the walls, knocking them out cold. Then, with the doorway just within her reach, she propelled her stretcher backwards, taking the other two doctors by surprise and knocking them over. She finally used her full strength to break the handcuffs leap off the stretcher so she could knock them out with one punch each. 

Stephanie’s first disadvantage was that she didn’t know where the exit was. There were no windows anywhere, for all she knew she wasn’t even on the first floor. She ran through the hallways, desperately searching, but froze when she heard footsteps surrounded her from both ends. Her only hiding place was the room next to her, so she entered the dark room as silently as possible, shutting it behind her and blocking out all the light. Right as the Hydra goons crossed paths in front of the room, she had another contraction, her other disadvantage. She covered her mouth and silently screamed into her palm. They were coming faster, which meant she didn’t have much time left. Maybe if she tailed one of the guards, they would lead her to the-

“Remember to breathe, meine liebe.” 

And with that voice, she knew time was up. The Red Skull flipped the light switch from behind him to illuminate the stuffy box-filled storage room. A dozen goons surrounded her, blocking her exit and trapping her in a ring of black uniforms and masks with her nemesis. 

“Skull?! But...you’re supposed…to be-“ Stephanie whispered through her panting and sweating. 

“-out on business? My dear Captain, I wouldn’t dream of missing the birth of my heir. Did you know that you’re right on time? Even if you weren’t, I’ve been here all month in the event they were premature. “ 

“They belong to me.” She growled through gritted teeth as her body clenched tighter. He grabbed her wrists and kicked her legs off balance. 

“Mausi, you can’t be jumping around. It’s almost time.” 

She had enough strength to get up and knee him in the groin, but suddenly a syringe was injected in her neck from behind her. Her muscles betrayed her as they relaxed and she slowly went into a dark sleepy haze. One of the “goons” pulled off his mask and put on his round black glasses and smoothed out his platinum blonde hair. 

“You heard the man,” Dr. Werner Reinhardt wiped the needle clean, “Just relax. We’ll take it from here.” 

The drug didn’t completely knock her out like it used to twenty sticks ago, but she was helplessly immobile as they restrained her to a metal chair with her legs in stirrups, exposing her whole flesh to multiple video cameras, with Red Skull watching from behind a glass screen. 

“Dilation at 10 centimeters. Push.” Reinhardt instructed calmly. 

She screamed in anger, red in the face and tears streaming down as she pushed out her first born child, a large baby boy with red hair and cheeks. They had restrained her hands in shackles above her head, so she couldn’t hold him. The nurse carried the baby away before he could make a sound, and she had to listen to her son’s first cry muffled behind the glass. The second child followed shortly after, another red-haired boy, smaller than his brother. She watched him wiggle, and cough and wail. 

As the child was taken to his father, Stephanie released from her bondage only to be taken to her brainwashing chair.

“NO!” She struggled as her muscles slightly strengthened on adrenaline, “Don’t make me forget them! You can’t!” 

“I know I can’t. Don’t worry, you will always be their mother,” Reinhardt adjusted the settings, “The Whore and the Mother of Hydra. That’s your new title, so you might as well get used to it.” 

And with that, Stephanie convulsed from electric shocks and was gone once again. Mother Winter opened her eyes and thought only one thing. They need me. Reinhardt dressed her in her satin Hydra robe and carried her by wheelchair back to her vault, where only one infant was swaddled and laid on a pillow next to her cot. She didn’t remember the birth, but she swore in the back of her mind that there were two. 

“Where’s the other one?” She murmured. 

Outside, on a nearby cliff, The Red Skull held the wailing infant over the snow-dripped edge. 

“Herr Skull, are you sure that is wise?” Reinhardt caught him at just the right moment, “Is that child not a part of your perfect race?”

“This is a runt,” Red Skull asserted, “There’s always one in every litter. I can’t risk a weak link.” 

“But Herr Skull, he is of your blood-“ Reinhardt protested, even if only a scientific interest in the boy. 

“Are you questioning my judgement, Dr. Reinhardt?” Red Skull held the child only slightly closer to his body. 

“I am just shocked that you would underestimate your own bloodline. You are of a superior race, as is the child’s mother. Both of these children are pureblooded. There are no weak links here.” 

The Red Skull deeply contemplated Reinhardt’s words. After a deep breath, he withdrew from the cliff’s edge and put the boy in the doctor’s arms. 

“Wise choice, Herr Skull,” Reinhardt stuffed the screaming infant into his coat, “Have you decided on names?” 

“For my heir, Roman, for he is the start of a new empire,” Red Skull walked alongside him back to the warehouse, “and for the runt….Charity, for it is reason he is alive.” 

Back at the warehouse, Mother Winter was bawling and banging against the door of the vault. She ran on motherly instinct alone, so she could feel something was wrong. Eventually, her second child was returned to her, and she cradled the wailing and shivering baby tightly and rubbed her nose against his. The larger infant also wailed, hungry and desperate for his mother’s attention. Mother Winter held them both to her chest so she could nurse them. Her face was blank, but they didn’t need a smile to feel her warmth. All they needed was her milk.


	3. The Heirs of Hydra

“Find the guy who leaked those fucking files! I will rip his dick off and leave it under my pillow for the dick fairy!” The muscular leather-bound ginger screamed into his phone as he raced through the D.C streets on his Harley-Davidson.

“You think I haven’t looked?! All I could find is that it was someone who had access to S.H.I.E.L.D’s administrative privileges, which means either board members or someone threatening the board members, so it could be anybody.” Charity would’ve shrugged if he had the room to move his elbows.

“Fucking shit! Get Hera on this if you’re going to fucking useless. She’s tech, isn’t she?” Roman deformed the handlebars on his bike as he squeezed them like stress balls.

“Don’t yell these things out loud.” Charity warned his reckless twin once he heard cars honking in the background, “Are you seriously outside right now? Our existence has been leaked and you are in broad daylight, riding your motorcycle, probably without a helmet on…”

“Because I’m looking for you! Where the fuck are you?” Roman’s voice shrilled.

“In the bathroom of the artsy café on South. Come get me.”

Rule 1 of being a Winter Soldier: Never abandon your litter.

Roman had to duck to enter the doorway of the quaint little coffee joint. As much as he wanted to just storm in, grab his brother and leave, extraction missions required as much subtlety as possible. Roman ordered himself a latte, trying not to snicker under his breath. He hated the kind of milk they served here, but he would stand out too much if he pulled out his special milk pouch from his belt and added it to his coffee.

When he went to the restrooms, he found the stalls completely empty, save for a duffle bag small enough to be carry-on luggage.  Bingo. Roman strolled out back to his motorcycle and threw the bag onto the backseat and held his coffee as he drove off. He didn’t stop until he had to for gas. When he dropped the bag behind the gas station, it shuffled around and opened itself so that the skinny and flexible ginger could pop out and stretch out his limbs.

“You fucker. You could have pulled over sooner.” Charity jerked his head to get the crick in his neck.

“You could still reach your phone. You were fine.” Roman added his personal milk to his coffee cup.

“Do you have her located on your scanner?” Charity jumped right to their next move.

“She’s on the Helicarrier. Barnes and his team are trying to sabotage it, but Mama will take care of that. And when she’s done, we’ll be right there waiting for her.”

The twins slyly smiled at each other.

* * *

 

“Steph, please don’t make me do this.” Bucky stared into the icy blue eyes of his lost love, looking for something in her glassy glare. He threw his shield (technically her shield) at her only for her to deflect it back to him. As they traded blows, she grazed his arms with a bullet. She moved more mechanically than she used to. As Captain America, her fighting style was very coarse and relied on a lot of improvised moves, like she wanted to enjoy the fight. Now as Mother Winter, she was more precise and focused, like she wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

               Bucky tried more defensive moves at first, but when she came at him with a knife, he had to use more aggression. He’d rather not lay his hand on her, so he let the shield do most of the damage for him. The shield clanged every time she punched it.  When she was obstructing the tray of computer chips, he had to kick her out of the way. The shield blocked most of her punches while he took out the old chip, but she lunged at him knocked them both over the railing before he could replace it. The shield and the chip went flying, leaving Bucky no choice but throw more punches at her. However, she caught each one and slapped him hard enough to send him backwards down the platform, towards the chip. She stopped him before he could grab it and it fell to the glass bowl of the ship. Bucky kicked her and sent her down with it.

               Mother Winter was given one directive. Kill Captain Barnes. Kill the Captain or else he will destroy her family. She knew that the chip was important to him, so maybe if she destroyed the chip, it would stop whatever he was doing and save her children. She squeezed it in her palm, but Captain Barnes got her in a chokehold that cut off her air.

“Steph, drop it.” He repeated with that name, like she was supposed to respond to it.

She tried to squeeze harder and thrust backwards into him to get him off, but he held on until she went limp and unconscious. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough for Bucky get the chip and jump back to the platform. However, soon she was up and got a direct shot in his stomach, which knocked him down for a bit. On any other target, that would’ve been a successful kill shot, and the mission would be over, but Captain Barnes had enough strength to lift himself up and place the chip in without a second to spare.

As soon as Bucky saw that Steph was on this Helicarrier with him, he knew that he wasn’t leaving it without her. He told Agent Hill to fire, even though that would mean firing at him. He would never forgive himself for letting her fall and not diving down after her, even if it meant Zola would get away. After all, he got his way in the end, so her “death” was in vain. The shield had always burned in his hands, and his uniform tightened around his throat ever since he was named Captain America after that mission.  The Helicarriers were now firing at each other, but this mission would not be complete until Bucky either brought Stephanie back or they both went down with the ship. Clutching his injured stomach, Bucky looked down to see Steph trapped under a part of the ship, struggling to get free.

_My babies. I need to get back to my babies,_ Mother Winter screamed in her mind as she tried to lift the metal bar off of her. She saw Captain Barnes moving towards her, probably to kill her. With her adrenaline running, she barely got it to budge. She was shocked when the Captain came near and helped her lift it enough so that she could slide out. Why was he helping her? She assumed he was the type of target who believed in sportsmanship and wanted a “fair” victory, whatever that meant.

“You know me.” Bucky said sternly.

He had to be lying. He wasn’t in the family. She tried to run through all the blurry memories in her mind. Had she ever held him? Or fed him? Or was he one of the ones who would throw her against a wall or onto a bed? Something about him was familiar, but it wasn’t clear, and that frustrated her.

“No, I don’t!” She swung at him. He would not let him distract her. He was still a target.

“Steph…you’ve known me your whole life.” He could see her gears were turning, and it was angering her, but something had to still be there. She didn’t respond to that one, she just slapped him backwards again.

“Your name is Stephanie Grace Rogers Barnes.” He started losing his energy as the shot to his stomach was taking its’ toll.

“Shut UP!” She screamed and punched him back even further away from her. The only name she needed was Mother. That’s what they told her. That’s what everyone who mattered to her called her.

“I’m not going to fight you, Steph,” Bucky dropped his shield without a second thought, letting it fall into the water, “You’re my wife.”

That had to be lie. She was the Wife of Hydra itself, it’s wife, it’s mother, and it’s whore. That’s…what they told her. _He’s still a threat. He’s still a target. He wants to take you away from the babies._ She lunged at him and knocked to the ground, punching the face that begged to recognized,

“You’re my mission.”

“Then finish it....” Bucky choked out with a tear in his eye, “Because I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.”

She stops punching. Two scenes flash in her mind at once, blending into each other. A man kneels at her feet and takes her by the hand, and a man pulls her by the wrist. They both smile, one with good intentions, the other without. One tells her “I will make you mine” and the other says, “I’m with you ‘til the end of the line.” The man in front of her is one of those men, and she doesn’t know which.

Because she could decide what to do, falling debris knocked the metal bar from under them. She clung to the bar, but Captain Barnes fell into the water. If he drowned, her children would be safe, but she had to know why she remembered his words. She let go.

* * *

 

“She’s falling!” Roman panicked, but Charity had another mission to be worried about.

“Duke, what happened?! Those Helicarriers are taking a dive!” Charity watched the scene play out from the shore.

“Someone interfered with our targeting system and set them to aim at each other at the last minute.” A brown-haired blue-eyed chiseled man in a S.H.I.E.L.D uniform explained in a monotone voice.

“Why are you so calm about this?!”

“Because I told Pierce it was a mistake to launch those before Captain Barnes was terminated.”

“Did you seriously try to give orders to a commander?”

The man rubbed the red bruise on his pale white cheek, “…Yes.”

Charity scoffed, “You Bluebloods think you’re so privileged.”

“Have you extracted Mother Winter yet?”

“We’re working on it. She’s fallen out of the sky right now, but we’ll fish her out and bring her back to the Cradle.”

“Do not bring her back to the Cradle. We’re flushing it.”

“So where’s our rendezvous point?” Charity pretended like he didn’t just hear that their home base was being destroyed.

“Be patient, I’m working on that. Just focus on getting Mama back.” Duke hung up.

Rule 2 of being a Winter Soldier: If Mama is there, everything is alright.


	4. Zodiacs (Too Little, Too Late)

Mother Winter was kept in her vault with her twins for six weeks straight, with food being sent in and diapers sent out through a slot in the door. They called it her maternity leave. They told her it was her time to bond with her new infants. They would sleep right next to her own her pillow, wrapped in their own black and red colored blankets. Even when traces of Stephanie peeked through, she didn’t let the circumstances ruin the joy in her soul when they’d smile. If anything, it only reassured her faith in them. They were innocent children, and she was going to rescue them.

As Mother Winter, her face never showed any emotion, but the babies never felt distressed or disconnected from her. They relied on her gentle touch and her warm chest for comfort. On the nights where the Russian winter was especially dreadful, she kept them under her own robe as they slept through the night. When she wasn’t feeding them or rocking them to sleep, she watched them wiggle and coo and put their feet in their mouths. It didn’t take long for her to distinguish their personalities. Roman was hungry most of the time and sleepy the rest of the time. Charity liked to grab things, and was the louder baby who babbled and cooed and cried more often.

When the six weeks were up, the goons opened up the vault and Reinhardt strolled in alone.

“My my, how they’ve grown.” He picked Roman up, who squirmed in the stranger’s hands, “I knew even with half a brain, you’d be a good mother. They look healthy for little soldiers forged in winter.”

Mother Winter reached up wanting him back, and Roman made grabbing hands for her as well.

“Oh relax, I told you you’d always be their mother. You’re the only parent they still have.”

She blinked her dry eyes and tucked in her chapped lips.

“Oh that’s right, you didn’t get the news. The Red Skull is gone, as is Captain America. A fight to the death…but I suppose neither of those names mean anything to you.” He stared into her unfocused gaze, “Just as I thought. There’s nothing there. Your treatments are working, then. At least there’s some good news.”

Mother Winter didn’t recognize this man, or any of those names at all. All she could process was that someone was holding her son and he was getting uncomfortable.

“We shall not mourn Herr Schmidt’s death. His vision will live on…“ Reinhardt handed the squirming infant back and gestured to both of the twins, “…and if you cut off one head, two more will grow in its place.”

Soon after she was released from the vault, Mother Winter and the Winter Soldiers were relocated to Austria with Reinhardt. With the Red Skull gone and Zola in the SSR’s custody, he was her new handler, and he had every intention to use all of his privileges. While Reinhardt and his men enjoyed a pleasant trip in the passenger car, she was kept in a stainless steel train car that had only a cot and a crib along with some basic supplies like food and diapers.

Reinhardt was all too eager to have her locked in his underground laboratory that was hidden away from the rest of the base. He spent his days experimenting with mysterious artifacts and testing her tolerance for pain with shock collars and sharp incisions.

“My dearest,” He secured the clasps on the metal restraints of his vertical holding table, “as much as I want to keep you forever, we have to send you on missions now, since we’re so understaffed and the SSR could wander in any day now. I have contacted a backup handler in case of an emergency.”

He removed his glove and stuck two fingers in her, swirling them around to get a feel.

“A little dry, no matter,” He pushed her unwashed darkening hair behind her ear, “We can still make the time we have left special.”

Reinhardt left it to his men to pack up their trinkets while he got a last taste of his treasure. He grasped the sides of the table as he pressed against her. She was too drowsy from her daily drugs to lift her head. He lifted her eyelid to see if she was even still conscious. His moans were buried into her sweaty neck. He rubbed against her smooth legs where red slits were slowly disappearing.

“You heal well. That’s good. So no one will ever see what was done.”

The next morning, Peggy Carter and the Howling Commandoes stormed into the base just as Reinhardt had emerged from the secret hole and returned to supervise his men’s work.

“These assets are now under protection of the Strategic Scientific Reserve. They will be relocated and hidden out of sight indefinitely, as will you.” Peggy sternly informed him at gunpoint.

_As will your precious pin-up model, I might add._ He thought to himself with a quick smug before responding with the Hydra mantra, “Cut off one head, two more shall grow in its place.”

“Then I guess we’ll keep cutting them off.” Peggy retorted, picturing more European men in blood-stained uniforms, not her best girl and the children she carried.

Stephanie’s old crew found everything in that Hydra facility except for her. For two days, Mother Winter was stranded in the isolated lab with no company but the twins in her arms and the new ones in her belly. When her new handlers finally came for her, they found her on the floor of her cell, gently licking her infants’ wet cheeks, like a cat grooming her kittens. They transferred her to Belarus, to a Russian facility that had a knack for brainwashing.

Nine months later, Stephanie awoke once more to the familiar trickle of warm amniotic fluid and the first contraction. For some reason, it was always the start of the delivery that knocked her back into her senses. Her first thought was to save worrying about herself for after her escape. Her next thought was that with the Red Skull and Reinhardt gone, she may have a chance to escape this time. Her spirit was revived when she heard four miraculous words through a muffled walkie talkie strapped to a guard’s belt.

“Agent Carter is here.”

_Peggy. I’m getting you out of here and you’ll get to meet your Aunt Peggy._ She thought loudly as if the sleeping redheads could hear her. This time, she wouldn’t show right away that her brainwashing had been undone again. It sent chills down her spine to willingly play the mindless incubator and mommy doll who only made soft cooing noises.

At least in this building, she wasn’t locked up in a vault. It wasn’t nearly as fancy. She and the kids were kept in a cell one would expect an abandoned asylum, with the reinforced metal bars, a small mattress and a window too high for anyone to reach. Getting the guards attention was a lot easier this time. All she had to do was lay on the floor sobbing and screaming as she rubbed her belly and clutched onto her soiled nightgown. They had been expecting her water to break any day, so when they heard the noise, the guards unlocked and slid open the metal bars.

“I…it hurt…here.” She groaned like a child who’d stubbed their toe but kept her face still save for tears forming in her eyes, making the guards trust that she was docile enough to be carted off to the delivery room in a wheelchair instead of being dragged there in cuffs.

“Aw, is the pretty mama ready for her new babies?” One of the guards asked in a mocking tone, to which she resisted the urge to roll her eyes and merely nodded her head. It made her heart rate in anxiety that she was leaving Roman and Charity behind in her cell, but she told herself that as soon as she saw Peggy, she would have the help she needed to retrieve them at once.

While last time, her damning obstacle was that she couldn’t find where the door was in time, this time she had no idea where Peggy was. Was she nearby? Was she in another part of the building? Was she outside? This facility was too big and she had too little time to go exploring. This delivery that contracts that came quicker and more painful than last time. The next painful cry she emitted as they rolled her down the hallway was completely genuine. It echoed down the hallway, and she hoped that somehow it would reach Peggy and whoever she brought.

As they passed by a window, she finally spotted her. Four floors below, in a blue winter jacket similar to Bucky’s, Peggy ran outside with Dum Dum Dugan and some of her other commandoes. They appeared to be running out of a building nearby which, in true Howling Commando fashion, was blown up in multiple places. Once Stephanie saw her team outside, hauling things and loading probably freed prisoners into trucks, she knew she had to make her move now.

Before they had time to even blink, Stephanie jumped out of her chair, pulled off her gown and used the thick fabric to strangle one of the guards. When the others came near her, she either kicked them down or swung their colleague at them like a sock full of nickels, knocking them out cold. Although jumping from windows used to be her escape route of choice, she was in no condition for that. Luckily, she found a spiraling staircase and started flying down, beating up every guard in her way…until the big contraction came.

When she finally reached the bottom, every muscle in her clenched and the energy was suddenly sucked out of her as her abdomen throbbed from inside. It was so painful that it knocked her flat on her back, gasping and squeezing the railings for even a moment of relief.

Peggy Carter led the SSR to an important Leviathan military complex that day, and took Dr. Ivchenko into custody, but once again, she barely missed on rescuing what mattered the most.

Two minutes before midnight of October 23, Mother Winter’s first daughter was born, and two minutes after midnight, another son followed. As Reinhardt was locked away in his prison known as “the Rat,” one of his outside men managed to get the word about the date and time of the birth of his litter.

“Tell them that I naming my daughter Libra, and my son Scorpio. It’s only right.”

It would be many years before Reinhardt saw his twins face to face.  

                                                                                                                    


	5. Exposure

“Looks like I don’t have to worry about my re-election campaign.” Scorpio quickly scrolled through the “Senator Whitehall is HYDRA” headlines trending on all the tabloid websites.  

“I’m sure you’ll still get some districts.” Libra neatly folded all her designer dinner dresses into her rolling luggage.

“Not if they execute us.” Scorpio’s hand trembled as he closed his laptop and stuffed it into his briefcase. He adjusted the thick round glasses he didn’t need but wore anyway. Everyone in Hydra said they made him look just like his father. The only difference between him and Werner was the shade of blonde. He had inherited their mother’s golden shade of blonde while his twin sister had their father’s platinum shade as well as his pale pink-tinted skin.

“They won’t execute us. They didn’t even execute Dad.” Libra threw her shoes into a luggage case of their own.

“So best case scenario, they throw us in a hole for the rest of our lives.” He pulled out his flask and took a big gulp.

“Unless we get out on medical leave,” Libra threw herself on the bed, brushing her manicured hands across her foundation-caked forehead, “like for my delicate heart. Oh without a decent meal, I’ll just faint!”

“They know it’s bullshit, Libra! Everything was leaked! Our birth certificates, our training evaluations, even our damn lunch menus. They know we’re perfect, and everyone who had the power to exonerate us is in this shithole with us!” Scorpio yelled through gritted teeth and pulled his sister by the arm.

“You think I don’t know that?!” She screeched back, “I had to say something to keep us optimistic. Do you want to panic and die or do you want to live?”

“If we don’t come up with a _real_ plan, we won’t live, either!” He pulled her closer, forcing her arms against his chest.

“Oh my dear brother,” She petted his hair with an endearing smile, “you know it’s not our job to make the plans.”

Suddenly, they heard a loud whirring from outside. Libra pulled out of his grip and looked out the window to see a helicopter hovering over their gardens. Libra waved at the pilot.

  “Bakshi’s here. Get your shoes on.”

* * *

 

“Mama, where are you?!” Roman shouted as he pulled out grass and scanned the trees.

“Patience. I’m recalibrating the scanner. Maybe it’s just off a little.” Charity had noticed that her tracking signal had been moving and then suddenly stopped at this location. Roman was moving rocks and throwing them in the water.

“You’re not going to find her under a rock.” Charity rolled his eyes.

“Well that piece of shit isn’t doing anything!” Roman stopped when he spotted. It wasn’t an enormous amount like someone bleeding to death, but it made a trail. It stopped a few feet away where they found what the scanner was looking for, but not what they were looking for. A small blood-covered hunk of metal lay embedded in the sand. It was Mother Winter’s tracker, cut free out of her arm. Roman took the jagged blinking trinket and crushed it until it cut his palms.

* * *

 

Bucky tightened his metal grip around Natasha’s neck as he held her over the rooftop of the Avengers tower.

“You leaked her files. You exposed her.”

“I…didn’t know… what was on there….James!” Natasha had been choked enough in the past to learn out to talk through it, but it never stopped hurting, especially when it was from people she trusted.  She knew that Bucky was the brutal type, especially after she watched him kick Sitwell off the roof himself (He claimed that it wasn’t the original Cap’s style, it was his), but she didn’t even know if the tears in her eyes were from the pressure building up in her head or her heart breaking.

“Put her down, Captain.” Tony ordered from underneath his helmet. He kept one hand aimed if he needed to get serious.

“Did you even LOOK at those files before you put them out there for everyone to see?!” Bucky actually loosened his grip, which terrified her more as she could feel gravity pulling at her feet.

Tony sighed, “I’m not going to ask twice.” He shot at Bucky’s arm, stunning the metal, forcing him to let go of Natasha. Tony promptly flew down to catch her and land her gently on the ground.

“Are you alright?” Tony asked, checking her vitals through his scanner.

“I’m okay.” She held her hand out, distancing him as she rubbed her throat.

“Good. Go inside and wait as I give him a time-out.” Tony prepared to take off, but Natasha stopped him.

“Tony, don’t. That won’t help this.” She hooked her hand on his shoulder plate.

“He threatened your life, Natasha.”

“You saw the tapes. You saw what they did to his wife. He’s inconsolable right now, and she’s out there somewhere, alone and…humiliated.”

“That doesn’t give him the right to do that to you! I can’t let him act like that around the team.”

“Of course not, but he’ll pay for that later. Right now, he needs us.” Natasha’s hand turned comforting.

“I can’t believe you’re not upset about this. Is this normal for you?” Tony cocked his head, both angry and genuinely confused.

“Just go back up there, and try to reason with him before you condemn him.” Natasha pleaded in a commanding voice.  Tony’s eyes still shook with disgust and disappointment. He knew that Bucky was going to be livid and property would be destroyed, but hadn’t expected this. He expected more from Captain America, but he could tell from day one that this man had damage to him, and not just in the arm that suffered irreparable frostbite during the decades in ice.  He did as Natasha asked and flew back up, expecting an aggressive raging force more volatile than even the Hulk, but instead he found Bucky laying on the floor in a fetal position. His tears made his strands of long brown hair stick to his cheeks, but his blue eyes still poked through, looking up at Tony in shame and desperation. He murmured only one word through the painful lump in his throat.

“Help.”


	6. The Bluebloods

After the addition of Dr. Faustus to Hydra’s scientific division, Stephanie Barnes’ transformation into Mother Winter was finally complete. Dr. Faustus informed them that the secret to controlling her mind wasn’t wiping it completely and permanently, for that was impossible and a waste of the knowledge and skills she had that they wanted. Instead of keeping Stephanie asleep, they had to put Stephanie somewhere else, deep in her unconscious, lost and distracted in her own world, chasing a carrot on a stick. He also programmed her with three different modes: mother, whore, and soldier.

The mother was her gentle and nurturing default mode, and clung to whatever warm body was near like a child. The whore would undress and suck on whoever was put in front of her. The soldier was the one they sent on missions, mechanical, efficient, and brutal in every way.  Each mode had an activation trigger phrase, and each mode recycled different parts of Stephanie’s original personality. All modes obeyed without question, and all modes were used for sex at some point, even when she wasn’t scheduled for breeding.

In the summer of 1949, she was transferred to Germany to live with her new handler, Baron Heinrich Zemo in his castle.  She and her children were kept in a private candle-lit dungeon, save for the nights where the Baron would take her into his bed. That was not good for the children at all. Sometimes, she’d return to her room and find Charity had gotten a hold of shards of glass and cut his siblings with them. Then when she took the weapon from him, he’d cry and claim that they attacked him first. Roman and Libra would jump in her lap.

“Mama, I want milk!” They’d beg her, pulling on the strings on her peasant top with their chubby fingers. She’d pull down the neckline of the milkmaid dress she was maid to wear and held them in her arms while they drank from her until they fell asleep cuddled against her chest.

Hydra’s scientists noticed that her breastmilk had a strange effect. For the children, it was more than just nourishing, it was addicting, and abnormally soothing, and the only thing that got the little brats to comply. For anyone else, it knocked them out like a powerful sleeping drug, as they discovered when one of the goons pushed her into an empty hallway and tasted it for himself.

One afternoon, while Mother Winter helped the children build forts and castles out of wooden blocks and toy soldiers, the Hydra elite discussed her fate in Baron Zemo’s private board room.

“With forty weeks for gestation, six weeks for maternity leave, and an additional 6 weeks for tune-ups and possible repairs, the Asset would be occupied for the full year.” Zemo explained the logistics he had written up for the commanders.

“Would it be possible to send her out on missions during the pregnancy?” An older, liver-spotted gentleman asked.

“It would be possible, but not recommended. It could put the offspring at unnecessary risk.” Zemo responded.

“Well surely if the mission is more important, we should arrange something. This is not some fragile waif we are talking about. According to past reports, she’s been able to run and even fight up to hours before delivery.” Baron Wolfgang von Strucker spoke up.

“And are we sure that had no adverse effects?”

“The Purebloods and Zodiacs are healthy, are they not?”

“Yes, but they are ill-behaved and arrogant little beasts.”

“That is called being a toddler, Herr List. Also, did you expect humble offspring from Schmidt and Reinhardt?”

After much deliberation, the council agreed to schedule Mother Winter for another litter, compromising by only sending her on assassinations if needed during the first trimester, and extraction missions up until the end of the second trimester.  Then came a more divisive matter: who would father the new litter.

“As her handler, it is only logical that I father this litter.”  Zemo asserted.

“Well if you’re going to play husband, then as a fellow Baron, I will just have to declare _prima nocte_ and have the first honors.” Baron Strucker smirked.

“That ridiculous law is a myth, and even if it weren’t, it’s only applicable to your subjects, not your fellow Barons.” Zemo snapped back.

“My lords, please,” Dr. List interrupted, “Might I suggest we let the Asset have a say?”

After a second of silence, the table slowly erupted from low chuckles to belly-filled laughter.

“Yes, and let the sheep herd themselves while you’re at it. Take the reins off your horse, and see where it leads you.”

When the meeting took a short recess, they still had not come to a formal decision, but both Barons took it upon themselves to claim Mother Winter first. They each looked in her cell, but only found the four toddlers drawing on the walls or playing with their stuffed toy hydras. She left when she was ordered to retrieve coffee for a few of the guards.  As she walked through a hallways with an empty tray, both Barons came at her from opposite sides and pulled her by her twin pigtails or arms into the nearest linen closet.

“You’ve been very busy, haven’t you?” Baron Zemo held her waist close to him and ran one hand down her soft chest, “I think you deserve a quick moment of relief.”

Baron Strucker pushed his hips against hers, pressing her in between them, “Should we keep her in this mode or switch her to ‘whore’?”

“I find that mother mode has its perks.” Baron Zemo grabbed her chin and looked into her innocent blue eyes.  When he pulled the sleeves and neckline of her top down to her undercorset, she instinctively crossed her arm over her chest to cover herself.

“So we _can_ agree on something.” Baron Strucker unlaced her corset and unhooked her skirt, which both fell to the ground when she spun around to weakly try and stop him. She had no slip underneath the outfit, so when Baron Zemo pulled the peasant shirt completely off, she was bare-naked save for her high heels, and blushing and whimpering in shame.

“This version at least thinks that she still has some dignity to lose.” Baron Zemo grazed his mask-covered face against the back of her neck. He was close enough that she could smell the stench from his unwashed mouth. It sent her leaning more towards Strucker, who at least smelled like good cologne.

“Oh, I think she’s fond of me.” Strucker grinned as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his soft shaft, which hardened as he rubbed it against warm thighs. Zemo wrapped his gloved hand around her mouth and pulled her towards him as he shoved his purple leggings down to his knees. He groped her chest and hissed into her shoulder as he positioned himself between her asscheeks, poking the ring with his tip. Strucker brushed against the opening of her pussy until she shuttered and bit her tongue.

In a single moment, they both sank into her, filling her holes which made her shriek loudly into Zemo’s hand. The Barons didn’t synchronize well, which made them toss her back and forth in awkward gestures. They adjusted themselves when they felt each other through the skin in between her holes. They also had problems sharing her breasts, as the both wanted to keep their grip on them.

When Baron Strucker spilled his load inside her, she clenched her body together, squeezing the fabric of his uniform, and letting her head fall on his broad shoulders.  Zemo turned her around, lifting her thighs to make them around his hips and the shelves behind him supported her legs. He thrust harder into her, burying his face in her chest while Strucker held her up her ass, squeezing the cheeks and biting her neck and shoulders to mark her. She groaned behind her pursed lips. Zemo finished with a few last final thrusts, making sure every seed of his filled her, before dropping her like a ton of bricks. She squeaked as she hit the ground, landing in her pile of discarded clothes. As the men redressed, Baron Zemo threw his purple, fur-lined cloaked to cover her before exiting the closet with Baron Strucker.

“Well, Baron Zemo, I believe we’ve reached a compromise.”

“I wouldn’t disagree.”

“Perhaps we could arrange something for tonight as well, just to guarantee she gets pregnant on schedule.”

“Again, I wouldn’t disagree.”

* * *

 

Nine months later, Hydra celebrated the birth of quintuplets. The elite honored Baron Zemo and Baron Strucker with a private but festive party filled with beer and cigars.

“Maybe we should change our motto. Cut off one head, _five_ more shall grow in its place.” A tipsy Dr. List joked.

“How are you going to name them if you don’t know which belongs to each of you?”

“We’ve come to an agreement-“Baron Strucker started.

“-A compromise.” Baron Zemo corrected him.

“Yes, a compromise.  Since our only guarantee is that this litter is of noble blood, we have decided give them names befitting royalty: Baron, Duke, Duchess, Prince and Princess.”

Everyone laughed, as this cemented the trend of unusual names that would continue for all the Hydra-born babies. They thought of them not as actual children, but as puppies or slaves that you address by pet names. It would be a while before a DNA test determined that Princess and Prince biologically belonged to Zemo and that Baron, Duke and Duchess belonged to Strucker.

 Mother Winter was not available to attend the event as a party favor for the birth had been difficult on her body. There was no permanent damage, but all five babies had been a healthy size and at full-term when she delivered them. Even for a super soldier’s body, that was a miracle.

“There are girls! I got TWO sisters!” Libra jumped ecstatically in her little black and red Bavarian dress as she pressed her face against the glass wall of the nursery, whose wish to not be the only girl anymore had been granted two-fold.  Roman was less excited.

“How is Mama supposed to feed me when she’s gonna have these things on her all the time?” He frowned as hard as he could and banged the glass hard enough to make it shake, which frightened baby Prince and made him cry.  He could’ve broken it if he tried. The goons by this time had learned not to underestimate him just because he was a little less than three feet and outgrowing his black lederhosen with the Hydra logo embroidered on it.

“If they were inside Mama, how did they eat?” Scorpio mouth made a circle in his confusion and wonder.

Charity wanted to try to find a way in without making noise. He wanted to touch the new babies, and play hide and seek with them. His favorite game was hiding Mama’s “toy” knives and watching her look for them. How funny would it be if he played that with one of the babies? Unfortunately, it would have to wait, as their mother surprised them by appearing behind the glass. She was supposed to be asleep, but the sound of her newest son crying had summoned her from rooms away.  Even in mother mode, her face did not smile for them, but when she slowly strolled over to Prince’s bassinet, she leaned down to rub her nose against his, calming her poor runt of the litter with her face against his cheek. It was the only thing she could do for him.


	7. Rendezvous

Prince swiftly picked his prized possession out of the flames eating his room.  He leapt up to his bed on the five-story bunk bed and slipped his hand through the large tear in his mattress. He pulled out the plastic dollar store photo album and stuffed it in the inner pocket of his S.H.I.E.L.D jacket.

“Leave your shit! Get out of here, dumbass!” Duchess screamed over the crackling fire consuming the hallway where she had been pacing, looking for him. Just because he was the runt didn’t mean she was going to leave him behind.

“I’ll meet you outside.” Prince called out before he flew through the glass window, shattering it and tumbling down to the ground three floors below.

“The door was still an option.” Duchess called back as if he could hear her. With Prince now outside, the Cradle was completely cleared out, not that anyone had checked before they set the damn thing on fire. As their room exploded with debris and embers, Duchess grabbed a hold of the sliding pole that took her all the way down to the front door. Her phone finally rang which gave her some relief.

“It’s about fucking time, Duke! The Cradle’s been emptied and I’ve got the Composers and the Olympians out here waiting for the rendezvous point.”

“Gotcha. I’m sending the coordinates, everyone should have them….now.” Duke sent a mass email through their private server that only Hydra agents could access.

“And Duke we have another problem.”

“Save it for the rendezvous.”

“Princess and Baron aren’t picking up.”

One of the Composer triplets, Wolfe, swiped the phone from Duchess and added, “Yeah, and we can’t find Wagner, either? So my guess is that they’re somewhere in their love nest doing gross things.”

“We will deal with it at the rendezvous point. No more chatter, just go.” Duke clenched his fist as he was losing his patience.

* * *

 

“Ouch!” The nine-year-old held back his tears as the knife dug into his arm, “Ow, Mama!”

“I know it hurts, baby, but we need to do this so that they can’t track us.” Princess bit her lip as she watched the blood drip down her son’ pink tissue and pale white skin. The person she stole credit card information from would get a hefty bill from the hotel for the stains in the carpet.

“Are you sure now is the best time for this? The one time that everyone in Hydra _and_ S.H.I.E.L.D is actually looking for us, you want to disappear.” Wagner, the boy’s father, held the knife to his own forearm, hesitant to make the first cut.

“They’re in a mad scramble to find everyone else. This might be the only chance we get to slip through the cracks.” Princess kissed the boy’s arm and bandaged it.

“What if they find us anyway?” Wagner still couldn’t bring himself to break this rule, even after a history of breaking other people’s rules.

Princess took the knife from him and cut out his tracker herself, “What’s Rule Three?”

“Never entertain the idea of failure.” The young boy answered. His mother ruffled his dark brown hair with her blood-stained hands.

“That’s right,” She pressed her chest against Wagner’s as she leaned towards his face, “So don’t worry about getting caught.  Be the dangerous one I fell in love with.”

“This is a new level of dangerous.” Wagner whispered as her lips got closer, “We have King, and we’re abandoning our litters…”

“..Which makes it all the more exciting.” Princess tugged on his red locks as she pressed his face into hers for a kiss.

“What…What about Mama?” Wagner asked, which made Princess huff in frustration.

“If I have to drag you both unconscious to the boat, I will.”

“But we need her, and she needs us.” Wagner’s words came out like a rehearsed speech, like a mantra ingrained into his mind.  Princess pulled the milk pouches out of his utility belt and stomped on them with her purple leather combat boots.

“No, you don’t. We can take care of ourselves. She can take care of herself.” Princess took all three of their trackers and flushed them down the toilet, “Alright boys, it’s time for us to ride into the sunset.”

* * *

 

“So why is Cap in my room?” Bruce asked, seeing the security footage behind Tony as he sat on the couch for the emergency meeting.

“Bucky is kind of having a meltdown right now and rightfully so.” Tony started to explain.

Clint sat on the arm of the couch, tapping his fingers on his arrow, “Damn right after what Hydra did to-“

“I’ll explain it, Clint. If you don’t mind. That is why I called this meeting. Now for those who don’t know already, Hydra, Cap’s arch nemesis of an organization, was recently discovered to be alive and thriving within S.H.I.E.L.D, so Romanoff leaked all of their files so as to spill all of their secrets.” Tony brought his holograms to the front to help him explain.

“And this upsets the Captain?” Thor asked, being the least informed on this topic.

“I’m getting to that. One of the biggest things that Barnes and Romanoff found out while in D.C is that the original Captain America, Barnes’ wife, is alive and had been brainwashed into working as an assassin for Hydra.” Tony brought forward the footage of Mother Winter on a mission in Central Europe.

“That’s…that’s so awful…” Bruce’s heart sank to him stomach and he covered his mouth.

“That’s…not even the worst part,” Tony started sweating and his voice stammered, “Brace yourselves, people.” He spared them the gory details and instead shared the dozens upon dozens of Winter Soldier profiles, with birth certificates and footprints and all.

“Hydra…used her…to make more agents. They kept her young and they kept her birthing babies left and right.”

Clint had to excuse himself, and Thor slammed his hammer on the table. Bruce just buried his face in his palms.

“So what do we do now, Stark?” Romanoff coolly asked, having swallowed all her disgust.

“Since no one knows where she is, we find her. We find her, and we bring her home.”

“And what if we encounter one of these…offspring?” Thor asked.

“These are dangerous, highly-trained assassins. If you see one, you capture them on-site and bring them here. We’ll decide from there just how much of a threat they are.”


	8. The Olympians

“Here’s your ID and your first assignment. Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D, Dr. Zola.” Agent Thompson handed the stubby man a thick folder with a shiny plastic card on top.

“Thank you,” Zola shuffled around nervously, feeling Agent Carter’s glare burn into his bald head.

“The lab’s on the fourth floor. Go look around. You start in the morning.” Thompson opened the door and sent the doctor on his way.  He didn’t even have to turn around to see Peggy shaking her head thrusting her chin forward in disgust.

“Please explain to me how this is not a horrible mistake.” Her heels clanged on the granite floors as she marched over to Agent Thompson.

“He passed every test. He knows things, and he’s willing to spill.” Thompson leaned on his desk.

“Steph-Captain America _died_ trying to capture this man. You’re willing to let him go free and offer him a handshake and a free pen.”

“He’s not free; he works for you, now.” Thompson held his hands out to cool her down, “I know you’re not a big fan of Operation Paperclip, but it’s happening, and there’s nothing you or I or Director Stark can do about it. If Zola wasn’t working here, he’d be testing nuclear weapons in Nevada or something. I brought him here so that we could keep a close eye on him.”

“But you’re willing to let him work in our lab? See our files and lay his hands on our weapons?” Peggy dug her nails into the desk.

“His weapons gave Hydra an advantage over all the artillery on the Western Front. If we pay him enough, he’ll do the same for us. Six years of watery beans and a concrete mattress should have made him sort out his priorities.”

“I let you join S.H.I.E.L.D because I trusted your judgement of character.” Peggy’s voice went soft, “Don’t make me regret it.”

* * *

 

Zola struggled to keep the rolls of rifle designs tucked under his arm as he forced the key into the lock of his new apartment in Queens. His hat falling over his eyes almost knocked his glasses off his nose and made it almost impossible to move forward without making everything fall. As he shoved into the door, his hat and glasses fell right off his face and reaching down to get them made several of the rolls slide to the floor. He mumbled curses as he got down on his knees to find his glasses and wipe them clean.

When he slipped the round metal-rimmed lenses back on his face, he noticed a paper greeting card titled “Welcome Home” standing on the kitchen counter. Ignoring his mess on the floor, he opened the card to find the Hydra logo printed on the inside, along with a message.

_The Red Skull is dead, but the mission is not over. Cut off one head, two more shall take its place. Your work has been invaluable, and your loyalty will not go unrewarded. Open the door and you will find the key to rebuilding Hydra from scratch._

Dr. Zola shivered from excitement and fear as he looked towards the door to the only bedroom in his apartment. Being the Red Skull’s right hand man was the closest he’d ever gotten to tasting glory. Johann Schmidt had inspired him to be more than just another cog in the military industrial complex, and just when he thought he was falling back into his old niche, Schmidt’s grand plan once revealed itself in front of him with an offer too outstanding to resist.

Consumed in anticipation, he rushed to the door and slammed it open. There he found the goddess of his dreams laid out on silk red sheets, with legs open and hands running over her chest. He knew that his subordinates had retrieved Captain America from the icy waters in the mountains, and he was the one to recruit Dr. Faustus to brainwash her. Here, he was seeing the fruits of his labor presented to him like a gift. He wasted no time tearing his clothes off and climbing onto her large body.

“From the first time I saw you…” He whispered with heated breath as he crawled onto her chest, where his stumpy torso only reached as far as the length of her soft abdomen, “…I knew you were the perfect woman.” 

Her breasts were bigger than he imagined when he saw her across the metal bridge over the inferno of their abandoned factory. Her tall and built figure was covered in a showgirl outfit and a brown leather jacket, with a plastic blue helmet covering her head of messy but beautiful blonde hair. She wasn’t afraid of Schmidt. In fact, she challenged him, which had enticed both the Red Skull and himself.

Now, here she was. Stephanie Barnes, the Star-Spangled Gal, America’s favorite spunky sweetheart, spreading her legs and holding his head to her bosom. He groped as much as his small hands could grab. She moaned when he pinched her soft and sensitive nipples that stuck out like large pink buttons.  He presses his face into her neck, inhaling her special scent. He touched everything he had ever wanted to touch: her soft cheeks, her firm collarbone, and the plump curves of her breasts. He teased himself by grinding his cock against her stomach. She radiated a comforting heat that only got warmer from there. He shimmied himself up until he was sitting directly on her chest, knocking his dick against the side of her mouth until she opened him and sucked on him obediently. He bounced on her chest as he pulled on her hair and humped her mouth. When he felt near the edge, he pulled himself away, for he knew that he was supposed to save his seed for where it would be the most useful.

He crawled down to her parted legs, where she ran her hands over her inviting thighs and moaned as she was programed to. With a deep breath and an ecstatic smile, he held onto the flab on her hips as he slipped his cock into her hot flesh. He thrusted hard and fast, like a jack rabbit. On her end, she could barely feel anything, as his short length barely slipped past her entrance. In this Whore Mode though, her objective was to please, not to feel.  She touched his shoulders as he pounded into her. He grabbed her legs and pressed more slowly when he felt his thick fluids leak into her.

As she felt his seed fill her, she wrapped her legs around him and rolled over, sending him on his back and his face squished into her chest.  She pressed her hand into his chest as she leaned up and straightened her back. With his full length, still inside her, she rocked her hips, and clenched her muscles around him.  He gasped and whimpered as he felt the goddess ride him and move him in new ways. She bounced on him forcefully and circled her hips. Suddenly, in one swift jolt, she twisted the cock of that troll of a man in a way that made a painful snap.

* * *

 

Even well into the delivery of his litter, the rest of Hydra’s commanders still mocked Dr. Zola for the broken manhood he received at the hands of Mother Winter.  The techs explained that since Whore mode was still relatively new and untested, there were still kinks to work out that would require additional tune-ups.  Zola had a hard time shooing the two-year-old Bluebloods from the delivery room, especially when the two Baronesses jumped on his back and held onto his head. The other children were all busy doing their schoolwork as provided by their private tutor. They wouldn’t learn much about reading or writing from their mother, who barely spoke and relied on physical communication. 

On certain days of the week, each litter was allowed private time with their mother. Hydra actually encouraged the development of mother-child bond between them. It kept Mother Winter’s mind and body occupied when there were no missions, and it was a powerful opportunity to mold and manipulate the minds of everyone involved. Do what Hydra says is best for the children. Do as your mother says. Your mother will be hurt if you fail. Your children will be taken if you fail to comply.

The Bluebloods were upset because this was scheduled to be their time with Mother Winter. When they were informed that their mother was in labor and going to have more children, they threw even bigger tantrums because they were no longer going to be the youngest. When they refused to behave, they were punished by being separated and locked in separate cages for the next few hours.

In August of 1952, Mother Winter’s tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteen children were born. Dr. Zola named them with a Greek mythology theme in mind for their mother was a goddess, and myths are what inspired Hydra’s inception in the first place.  Zeus, Hera, Hades, and Hermes lay on Mother Winter’s body as they took turns sucking her milk.  Zola rarely visited his progeny, as he had to keep his cover that he was a fully reformed S.H.I.E.L.D agent, dedicated to science and no agenda of his own. As the Barons Strucker and Zemo dealt with business elsewhere with work and even other families, they continued the trend of Mother Winter’s children growing more dependent on her in the absence of their fathers.


	9. Shattered

“Brooklyn? Seriously, Duke?” Hera walked around the rusting abandoned shipyard that was the rendezvous point.

“What, with those jumpsuits and your tattoos, you’ll fit right in.” Duke smirked and gestured towards the “Mom” heart covered in vines that was printed on the shaved half of her head.  Hera tossed her parted mane in contempt.

“She was born here…” Zeus mumbled, “…all these years, and we never knew…”

“We’ve could’ve learned about it sooner,” Hermes tapped his fingers on his arm, “All of Hydra’s files at our disposal…why didn’t we?”

“Because it would break it.” Hera shrugged, “We all knew she had to come from somewhere, but no one wanted to think she had a life before us.”

“I always imagined she was created in a lab.” Zeus pulled the ponytail out of his blonde hair and let the heat escape as he ruffled it.

Hades looked out the window, gazing in the direction of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Aw, you miss your boyfriend already?” Wolfe lay on a bed of rusty chains and made kissy noises.

“Maybe he won’t even know it’s you, it’s not like he can see your face on the TV.” Hermes offered a pathetic option.

“Karen’s going to see, and she’ll tell him. Plus, he’ll notice that I’m not at the office.” Hades, or as his friends knew him, Foggy Nelson, balled his fists into the pocket of his polyester suit.

Hades had broken Rule Four: Do not make friends, make allies. He broke that rule when he first stumbled into his dorm room and met Matt Murdock. He broke it when they hired Karen Page to work for them. He broke it when he helped Ms. Elena Cardenas rebuild her apartment. He told the rest of his litter (and their handler) that he was faking such affection for them, all a part of being a twofaced Winter Soldier.  When he found out Matt was keeping this secret super powered hero life from him, yes he was shocked and angry, because he didn’t know if Matt found out his secret long ago. He yelled and cried,  moreso than he intended as if to keep himself in denial that he was living a double life as well. Now if he ever saw Matt again, he’d never hear the end of it.

“Where the fuck is everybody?!” Duchess started to get restless. Stragglers started to drop in one by one.

“Sorry, we’re late everybody! We got held up in the principal’s office.” Desdemona ran in with her fellow Shakespearian quadruplets steadily behind her.

“…You’re a member of one of the most notorious industrial military organizations in the history of the world…and you were sent to the principal’s office.” Duke said completely deadpan.

“I think they were more upset about finding the bombs in my locker.” Lear stratched his shaved head.

“What about you two? You got expelled last year! Where were you?” Duke pointed to Macbeth and Hamlet, who were stoned on their own personal batch of weed that could make even super soldiers go on a journey.

Macbeth blinked several times, “Colombia.”

Hamlet patted his notebook of calculations, “Distribution meeting.”

Eventually, Libra and Scorpio strolled in, calm and poised as if they were arriving for a gala.

“Hera, darling!” Libra greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, “I’m so glad you’re here, too. Oh, and what a lovely necklace. Is it a new trend?”

Hera lightly pulled on the small jagged chunk of a broken motherboard, “It’s my dad. What’s left of him at least.”

The rest of the Olympians instinctively reached for their own necklaces as well. It was more that they mourned their loss of years of work than their actual father. When Dr. Zola was given a terminal diagnosis, he ordered his children, the computer prodigies of Hydra, to save him. Years of working alongside him in his laboratory, and he never paid much attention to them unless he needed test subjects. He relied on their superhuman bodies to recover from any serious injury. Zeus had metal plating on his left forearm from when he’d torn off his own skin under the influence of a bioweapon. Hera had a permanent burn scar on her hand where she had poured hydrochloric acid on it, just to get him to look at her. That day he came into the lab with a doctor’s note, wheezing and shaking with fear, he simply said “Save me” and they had no choice to but to obey.  In the two years he had left, the Olympian litter worked endlessly in the secret floor underneath S.H.I.E.L.D’s original headquarters, translating his brain activity into code, keeping his mind alive even as they prepared to say goodbye to his body. Now, he was gone for good.

Scorpio pulled out his phone to check the news, and he turned whiter than he already was, “Guys…Baron isn’t coming.”

“Did the golden child get captured?” Duke had to smile to cover his volatile mix of disdain but genuine concern and panic.

Scorpio turned up the volume on his phone and turned it to show the rest of the Winter Soldiers present.  The live footage showed Baron willingly presenting his wrists to the Feds, looking uncharacteristically demure they cuffed him.

Duchess punched the wall so hard, she made a hole in the already dilapidated building, “The fucker turned himself in! He fucking betrayed us!”

Finally, Roman and Charity rushed in, with Roman noticeably in tears.

“About time, boss.” Scorpio sneered.

Charity did the talking for his twin, “We have disappointing news…”

“If it’s about Baron just stabbing us all in the back, we already know.” Duke said.

“Worse,” Charity tried to pry the chip out of his brother’s hand, but to no avail. The giant just pressed it to his chest and let the tears flow down his face. Charity sighed and just spat it out,

“Mama’s missing.”

Within five seconds, they had completely leveled the building.


	10. The Rhyming Scheme

“Oh, back so soon? The mission went well then.” Baron Strucker grinned as Mother Winter marched into the base with a ten-year-old Charity riding on her back and Roman holding her hand, all three masked and doused in blood.

“They put up a fight, but we got them.” Charity pulled off his goggles and mouth cover.

“Six dead, total, sir.  Vujic, four guards, and one witness.” Roman’s youthful voice was muffled under his gear.

“And the bodies?” Baron Strucker asked.

“At the bottom of the mountain. I got to blow up the edge to make it look like the ground gave out and they fell.” Charity flashed a smile with missing teeth.

“And his research?”

Roman opened up his jacket and pulled some folded up blueprints out of his pocket, “This is all we could save, sir.”

“Well, this will have to do.” Baron Strucker took the paper from the child, “And who should I credit the kills to?”

“Mama, sir. Mama killed all of them!” Charity closed his arms around Mother Winter’s neck more tightly. She just nodded.

“You let her do all the work? That may have been acceptable on your first mission, but it’s time you started pulling your weight. The gun on your belt isn’t just for show.”

The twins grimaced and looked down. Once Strucker had everything he needed, they were dismissed and escorted back to their isolated quarters.

“One day, I’m gonna kill all the monsters and protect you, Mama.” Roman rubbed his cheek against his mother’s arm once they were alone in the elevator sending them to their underground hole, and she squeezed his hand to acknowledge his affection.

The doors opened up to the usual scene she came back to. Libra braiding Princess’s hair, Scorpio studying his languages, Baron and Duke wrestling on their playmat, Duchess giving her best war cry as she chased Prince with a toy sword, and the Olympians circled around the unfortunate low-level henchman who was forced to babysit and read them a story before bed.

“Oh good, you’re back! Um…they need you?” The henchman barely remembered the “pass phrase” he was told to say to her when she returned.  They didn’t explain to him why he was supposed to say it, but he assumed it was one of those phrases that showed they were on the same side, like “Hail Hydra.” Immediately, he noticed her shoulders soften and her breathing relax. She pulled off her goggles and mask so she could kiss each of her young toddlers on the forehead as they clutched to her legs. It perplexed the goon of how she didn’t seem phased that her hair and face was sprinkled with blood, some of which got on her children’s faces when she kissed them.

“Bed time.” She said once, and all the children dropped what they were doing and walked single-filed down the long hallway that led to their rooms. The henchman raised his eyebrows under his hood at how these rowdy children suddenly obeyed at the sound of her voice.  It was hard enough for him to get the four little ones to sit still for the story. As he watched Hydra’s most top-secret asset follow behind her flock, he felt a small tug on his uniform. He looked down to see little Hera holding a stuffed Hydra plush, with the head having been ripped off from rough play.

“Fix it?” She asked sweetly. The henchmen couldn’t help but smile at the blonde tot.  
“Alright,” He sat back down in the reading chair and pulled out the emergency sewing kit from his utility belt, and stitched up the head back onto its body.

“Do the thing!” She demanded as she jumped up and down with a little smile.

“Oh right,” He remember what he was instructed to do in the event that the toy Hydra was damaged. He went to the drawers and pulled out, from a colorful selection, a spare head that was ready to be sewn at a moment’s notice.  He pulled off his hood to make it easier to see where to stitch the additional head. As he glided the needle through the red cotton, he recited, “Cut off one head…”

“…two more will take its place.” Hera finished the mantra like a nursery rhyme. 

“Here we go, see? Two new heads. Now, off to bed.” The henchman smiled as he handed her the toy, and she took off giggling. She ran past her mother who had been standing at the entrance, watching the scene play out.

“So I am finished here?” He asked, but her gaze on him was serious and focused, like she was trying to recognize him. His brown hair that was parted to the side, his round blue eyes, that dark stubble on his lip and chin, all of these features that were common on any man, just seemed to combine on this henchman in a way that perplexed Mother Winter.

“Um…” He was getting intimidated now,”Can I go?”

Her programming was malfunctioning. She was _remembering_ something. This random goon was a decent but not great doppelganger for Bucky Barnes, but the parts of Mother’s Winter’s brain where traces of Stephanie’s memories of him remained started to piece themselves back together. However, they were only strong enough to give her one clear and focused thought. _I want him._

She charged towards him and before he could react, she straddled in him the chair. She grabbed his face, and kissed him madly as he flailed under her, shocked and flabbergasted. They did not warn him this would happen. Her eyes were flaming with lust, even though no one had activated her Whore mode. She unzipped the fly on his uniform and pulled his crotch through it. His muffled screams turned into moans as she jerked his cock into an erection.

Every henchmen, whether low-ranked goons like himself or the special classes, had at least a small crush on the mysterious Asset. Even if they couldn’t see her face, they loved the sway in her walk as she totted a gun around. Usually, she was only seen getting cozy with the commanders, but sometimes the top attack unit got her to go to their “get-togethers.” Why him, and why now?

She unzipped down the whole length of her jumpsuit to free her panty-less crotch. Her breasts fell out and squished against his face as she pressed herself right on him and enveloped his dick. She bounced on him furiously, groaning and gasping as she wrapped her arms around his neck for support. He clutched the arms of the chair tightly while struggling to move his face to a point where he could breathe, unsure of what would happen if he tried to pull her hands off of his head. She may just rip his head off if he interrupted her mad rhythm that rocked him to a new level of pain and pleasure.

She pulled his head out of his chest to gaze upon the face that triggered this state. He looked scared, desperate, and close. Her mechanical movements on his crotch rubbed her inside in a way that brought her close to a pleasure she was not permitted to feel. It wasn’t an official rule that Mother Winter wasn’t allowed to orgasm, but it was one of those things that none of her handlers tried to do.  When the pressure building up in her finally came to a head, she didn’t know how to react to the painful rush. She slapped the clueless henchman against the head so hard it sent them both tumbling off the chair, with the goon landing on top of her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him to keep this unexpected source of bliss close to her. He wasn’t able to pull away or wiggle free, so when he was forced to release, it all dripped out inside her.

When Mother Winter finally rode out her special moment of pleasure, her limbs went weak and flopped to the ground, freeing the young henchman. He shivered as he got up, and tucked himself back in his uniform before zipping up and rushing back up to the main headquarters, flustered.

He didn’t report or record the incident on any file or to anyone, so when the tech team discovered Mother Winter to be pregnant within the next month, the commanders were furious on how this happened without their knowing. The elite insisted they were careful when using her recreationally, and none of the high-ranking henchmen said anything either. Still, they allowed the pregnancy to continue, because they did not want to waste perfectly good soldiers.  The henchman, who was still given babysitting jobs often, started to notice that Mother Winter’s abdomen was growing, and deep down, he knew it was him. Fearing punishment, he never told a soul.

Since this pregnancy was unplanned, Mother Winter went on several missions even in her “compromised” condition, since these were scheduled months or even years in advance. She was miles above enemy waters in a helicopter when her water broke. Faced with this drastic emergency, the mission was delayed two hours and the helicopter flew in circles as she gave birth. She didn’t even scream, just firmly groaned as she pushed out two boys and one girl as she remained strapped to her seat, and her team took care of pulling the infants out and swaddling them in old shirts and parachute cloth lying around.  Once the cord was cut and the babies were confirmed healthy, Mother Winter was sent out to complete the mission as planned, only hours after having given birth.

It was a story that those Hydra members would share for the rest of their careers for a good laugh and some jeering from non-believers. Since the elites did not know who the father was, and the mission miraculously did not end in disaster due to the quick thinking of the helicopter’s pilot, he was given the honor of naming this mystery litter. Most of his creativity went to his problem-solving, so his naming was simply what other people would think to name triplets, with a rhyming scheme.  When Mother Winter returned to the base to see her new triplets, she found the bassinets labeled “Arnie,” “Barnie,” and “Marnie.”


	11. The Glass Screen

“I expected them to scatter. I never thought they’d give themselves up.” Nat said as she watched the crown jewel of the Bluebloods on the news step into a S.W.A.T car without any coercion.

“Is it part of a scheme? Last time we let a bad guy walk himself in, he sabotaged us from the inside.” Bruce recollected how he had been used as a part of Loki’s scheme to bring team down. Everyone focused on different memories from New York.

“Which one is that?” Clint asked.

“Well, judging by his face, it can be one of these two.” Tony displayed the two profiles, “Baron or Duke Strucker. Two of the several Hydra moles within S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Are they twins?” Thor asked.

“Actually they’re quintuplets, but these two are identical.” Tony explained.

Having one give himself up actually hurt their plan instead of help it. They expected them to run to their mother and they would chase them there, but instead they were either captured, turning themselves in, or disappearing without a trace. So far, this one was their only lead, and it took a lot of convincing and bribing on Tony’s part to get to see him. Once Bucky agreed to stay calm, he was allowed to join the rest in their interrogation of a real Winter Soldier.

The man in question wasn’t too monster-sized like Roman to fit into the orange jumpsuit, but still tall and athletically-built. He lay calmly on his mattress, twiddling his thumbs behind his clear prison cell wall.

“Aw, I love that dungeon smell. It reminds me of my youth.” He mused as he sat up to face the team watching him from the other side.

“So first things first, who are you?” Tony asked, armored in the Mark 43, with his hand ready if things got tough.

“You didn’t even say hello.” Baron pulled a sour face, “Well, I guess I will. Hi everyone, I’m Baron, Yes, that’s my real name, so with my title, I am Baron Baron von Strucker, but my father, Baron Wolfgang von Strucker just calls me Junior.  My mother doesn’t call me anything, because she’s not allowed to talk much. I have two brothers and two sisters my age, and we were born in Baron Zemo’s castle in Bavaria on March 21st, 1950. I know, I look great for my age. Once we reach maturity, it kind of takes twice as long to get to the “old person” stage.  I’ve done over 50 missions on all the continents, even Antarctica. Yes, I did know that my mother was Captain America. No, I never told her the truth. Yes, I was in denial. No, my dad did not tell me to surrender myself, I just sort of did that on my-“

“Slow down. Why are you telling us all this?” Bucky peered at him with suspicion.

“I just want to be helpful.” Baron pouted like a kicked puppy.

“You grew up with Hydra, so forgive us if we think you’re up to something.” Natasha was only half sarcastic.

“This from a Black Widow?” He smiled.

“Agent Romanoff earned her place on the team by cooperating.” Clint asserted.

“That’s what I’m trying to do. I’m all yours.” Baron held out his arms to them.

“But why?” Bucky clenched his metal fist.

“Because, and I’m probably breaking so many more rules by telling you this, right now, you are _winning_. You have the upperhand, and I want to be on the winning team.” Baron’s apple cheeks dimpled with his goofy, almost lunatic smile.

“You think we’re just gonna let you join our side, just like that?” Tony couldn’t believe this guy, and from Natasha’s look on her face, she was telling the rest of them so that far, he wasn’t lying.

“I’ve got information. I’ve got skills. I can tell you everything about us that didn’t make it into files. Like how Beethoven is very ticklish, and how the Coffee Pot has been infiltrating your mansion for years.” Baron pressed his hands into the glass wall, excited like a puppy begging to be adopted.

“Wha- They broke into my house?” Tony snarled and his chest puffed out.

“No, you invited them. See?! I told them you wouldn’t notice! They’ve been to all your house parties, and you never picked up on it, because they looked vapid and wore cocktail dresses.” Baron crossed his arms with a smug grin.

“You are really not helping your case, buddy.” Clint aimed an arrow through the small hole in the wall that would allow him receive his meals.

“Alright, I’m sorry. Look, if you take me with you, I will lead you to another winter soldier, how about that?”

“How about we just tell us where he is and we have you transferred?”

“Oh, that’s no good. You’d have to get there before the others do.” Baron hissed, “And time’s running out. So if you want him, you’ll need me to get you there.” 

“That’s tempting, but we’re really focused on finding my wife first.” Bucky stated firmly.

“That’s another thing. If you have at least one of us, it’ll be easier to find her.” Baron’s face suddenly stilled, and in a trance he murmured, “Mama protects us from the monsters.”

“...Group huddle.” Tony called out, and led the team away from Baron’s cell, “So what’s your read on this guy, Natasha?”

“When Bucky brought up his mother it certainly had an effect on him, so she’s probably where his loyalties lie.  He’s separated from his group, so if we take him, the others might come after him.”  Natasha whispered.

“Then we’d be taking all of them at once.” Bruce added.

“Which isn’t a problem, right?” Clint asked.

“I don’t know, Natasha and I barely survived Stephanie. If they’re as good as her, we might have a problem.” Bucky croaked under his breath.

“But if we take one in, it’ll show the rest that we’re willing to negotiate with them.” Natasha responded.

“Is that a bad or a good thing?” Bruce asked.

This deliberation went on for another several minutes, during which Baron started subtly panting and sweating. When they locked up him, they took his milk pouches. He kept emergency milk tablets in his uniform, but that was stowed away somewhere. He clutched tightly onto the edge of his bed, slowing his breath until the thirst passed.  Luckily, he calmed down by the time the team went back to his cell.

“Pack your bags, Strucker. We’re going on a trip.”

* * *

 

Deep in the city of Bangkok, one cramped and musky massage parlor’s carpet hid a trap door which led to a cellar which led to a hidden elevator that Baron was able to operate with the special code, a fingerprint scan, and an eye scan. 

“Only two can fit in this elevator, so who’s going with me?” Baron asked. Both Tony and Bucky tried to squeeze themselves through the door.

“I need to go with him.” Bucky insisted.

“I need to see what’s down there.” Tony pressed his shoulder blade against his.

“These are my wife’s children. You’re not a part of this.” Bucky tried to shove Tony off with the shield.

“Tony,” Natasha pulled Tony’s shoulder out of the way, “He needs to do this.”

Tony inhaled deeply in displease as he stepped away and let the Captain and their special guest go down forty miles underground by themselves.

“If Cap kills both of them, it’s on you.” Tony told Natasha.

The elevator door opened up to absolute darkness, and when Baron turned on the light switch, dozens of fluorescent lights weakly flickered to lie to reveal the long hallway of laboratories and hospital rooms. As they walked past the dusty rooms that had bloodstains aged for decades, they came to a stainless steel door with a key pad.

“Here’s how lame they are. The passcode is his birthday.” Baron snickered as his punched in the numbers.

A quick rush of chilling air puffed out as the door whooshed open.  Inside, they found a room that was bare except for a control panel placed against the wall and a single metal sarcophagus with a small round glass window. Bucky marched and eventually ran to the containment chamber and started furiously rubbing on the window, but there was too much frost on the inside to see the person inside.

“Hold on, I’ll get him out.” Baron trotted to the levers and buttons and pulled and pushed accordingly.

“Did they do this to all of you?” Bucky’s heart was racing in anger.

“No, just little Arnie.” Baron pushed the last button and the door hissed as it flung open. Bucky caught the body as it fell out, cold and with a bluish tint, but still lightly breathing. He brushed the wet strands of dark brown hair out of his face to see his soft cheeks and ice crystallized on his eyelashes. This one was practically a boy, who couldn’t be older than twenty.

Soon, the young man started gasping and clutching to Bucky and slowly opened his eyes as the icy crust around them melted.  They were as blue as Bucky’s eyes, and his hair would be the same shade if it was dry.

“Ssshhh, it’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you.” Bucky held the boy tighter as he coughed and hacked until his airways were clear to breathe.

“Give him a minute. He’ll be alright.” Baron explained without any sense of urgency or sympathy.

“Why would they do this to him?” Bucky’s fury was channeled into a whisper as he tried to stand both himself and Arnie up.

Baron sighed and rubbed his hands down his face, “He…misbehaves. He gets erratic and he starts hallucinating and hearing things, basically he’s unstable. If he wasn’t the best sniper of all of us, they probably would’ve put him out of his misery.”

Bucky let Arnie’s head rest on his shoulder until his neck was strong enough to lift it.

“Even I could’ve ended up like him if the rest of my litter was killed on a mission.”


	12. The Alphabet

After the fiasco that was the first “henchmen litter,” Mother Winter was withheld from personal use with the staff, even the commanders, for several years. Whore mode was deactivated for the time period now referred to as “The Dry Spell.”. Mother mode was made exclusively for her children, and as soon as she left their private quarters, dubbed “the Cradle,” she was immediately switched to Soldier mode. The Rhyming Scheme itself was looked down upon for their lack of pedigree.

“You know, being a winter soldier used to mean something,” Scorpio purposefully pushed up his phony spectacles as he did sit-ups in the training room, “It’s all downhill from here.”

“Like you’re one to talk, your father doesn’t have superpowers or a royal title.” Baron pulled a 20-pound weight from the rack.

“He doesn’t need them, he’s a brilliant scientist.” Libra retorted with one arm behind her back during her push-ups.

“Yeah, so is Dr. Zola, and there’s plenty of potential there.” Duchess pointed to the circle of five-year-olds throwing and failing to catch the medicine ball until Zeus threw it in Hermes’ face and made him cry. The wail signaled Mother Winter from who knows where, and she ran to him as if she was answering a siren’s call. Even with her two-year old sons stuck to each leg, and her daughter hung around her neck, she sprinted like they were weightless on her. She picked up her precious runt of the litter and held him to her chest, massaging his head through his blond curls.

“How does she do that? He literally started crying five seconds ago, and she wasn’t even in the room.” Duke dropped down from the middle pull-up bar.

“Mama just knows. She knows everything.” Roman said wistfully as he mindlessly bench pressed 200 pounds.

“Except our birthdays, or her birthday, or her name for that matter,” Charity crossed his arms, “Okay, I don’t even know why I waste my time spotting you. You could at least act like you’re struggling to hold that much.”

“You…didn’t try asking her…did you?” Princess got sidetracked from her knife throwing practice, and Prince also looked as concerned as she did.

“Maybe, so what?” Charity huffed.

“You know what they do to her when she starts thinking about stuff like that!” Princess’s heart raced and her eyes welled up.

“Relax, it’s not like I asked her in front of the bosses. I’m not stupid. Besides, she didn’t have anything to say,” Charity added more weights to Roman’s barbell, “As usual.”

“Hey,” Libra jerked her head towards the Rhyming Scheme attached to their mother, “You know now that they have hair now, I think I can guess who their dad is.”

“What? It’s brown, a lot of people have brown hair. Look at us.” Baron gestured towards himself, Duke and Princess.

“Yeah, but look at their eyes, too.” Libra sounded excited like she made a big discovery.

“Um, yeah, their eyes are blue, just like literally all of us.” Duchess rolled hers.

“And the shape of their faces, and the shape of their noses, they’re all practically carbon copies of our old babysitter.” She nodded to herself, “Who, of course is the perfect candidate.”

“You’re bullshitting. The wimp who used to try to get us to play those clapping games?” Baron scoffed.

“Hey, I liked that guy. He used to read us bedtime stories.” Prince said quietly.

“Of course you liked him,” Duchess sneered, “You’re a runt.”

“You’re just jealous because Mama loves her runts more.” Prince sneered right back.

“Whatever happened to him?” Princess asked.

“Transfer” Charity shrugged, “It happens.”

Suddenly, the buzzer went off that announced the end of private gym time, and thus, group social hour. At lunch, every litter went to their own table in the mess hall, and then it was straight to weapons training.

As the Rhyming Scheme grew older, their older siblings and handlers constantly reminded them of their accidental conception by a less-than-spectacular breed of soldier. However, this only gave them something to prove, and they pushed themselves harder and closer together. They worked more cohesively than even the Zodiacs, sometimes communicating by their eyes alone. They never got arrogant as the Bluebloods did. Marnie could even take on both Purebloods at the same time in hand to hand combat. They never lost focus or disobeyed. Alexander Pierce, the newest Hydra hotshot and Mother Winter’s new handler called them the ideal Winter Soldiers, which unfortunately opened the doors to a cruel new era  of “free love” for Mother Winter. In 1968, breeding with her was now officially an opportunity open to henchmen  as well as commanders. Her Whore mode was reinstalled with a new passphrase that was shared with every Hydra employee.

Every other week, she was left naked and unsupervised with the door to her quarters unlocked. She grabbed passing employees by their belts and pulled them in. Some brought drugs and drinks with them and even set up a hookah to make it a real party. Some idiots dared to make white Russians out of her breast milk, which only made them eat shit on the concrete. The tech guys who dropped by gave her an injection that made her extra amorous. She reached for whoever was close and rubbed his crotch. This time, it was another unsuspecting goon who had only wandered in out of curiosity and got sucked into the vibe.

She unzipped his uniform and sleepily sucked on his cock, running her hand up his chest as he sat on a blanket someone spread out. He didn’t know what else to do but touch her hair. Other men grabbed at her, groping every soft part of her body, but she stayed focused on her target. When she was pulled to fall on her back, he stared at her full rosy lips as she moaned from the heat that burned inside of her. She was sweating, and her hair was sticking to her forehead. He crawled on top of her and kissed her tenderly, feeling the moans rumble in his mouth. He rubbed his face in her soft chest, running his hands down along the curves of her waist and hips. He couldn’t resist finding out how she tasted. As he licked and sucked on the juices flowing out of her, the other partygoers occupied her mouth and licked up her neck and shoulders.  Her chosen lover took a glass of champagne  from the refreshment area and poured it over her body to cool her off and make her shine. He licked it off of her breasts, sucking the tender skin.

He couldn’t wait much longer, he placed himself between her legs and entered her warmth. He didn’t know if it was the drugs he tried or the smoke from the hookah that made his vision blurry. Mother Winter grabbed him tightly and wrapped her legs around him as he slowly thrusted. Her own mind was too foggy to make any coherent thoughts, and she ran on the instincts programmed in her. She only recognized the heat inside her that burned from the moment someone looked her in the eyes and said, “I’ve got something for you.” After that, all she could hear inside herself were commands to touch everything that was presented to her and accept anything and everything done to her. Her whole body pulsed without her control, and it was starting to hurt. Her moans turned into whimpers. She clung to the warm body inside her in the hope that it would relieve the pain. She pushed on his cheeks to make him go harder and faster. The burning sweats turned into shivers. Her cheeks reddened. His last few thrusts as he came inside her finally quelched the burning.

Her muscles tensed and the burning finally died down, making her gasp and sigh in relief. For a brief moment, the fog lifted from her mind, and something returned to her. Not her usual motherly protocol, but something more dense. A memory. When her body relished in euphoric bliss, one word came to mind.

“Bucky…!” She moaned loud enough for people to hear. Loud enough to alert the chain of command that there was a chink in her programming. She was immediately dragged from her quarters to the tech wing and thrown into her mindwiping chair, without a change to put on clothes or wash off the fluids from her body. She fought, but the cuffs closed around her wrists anyhow. She didn’t even understand the gravity of what she said; it had rolled off her tongue without a thought or conscious decision. After a couple rounds of painful shocks that ran down her spine and into her limbs, the name was gone, as well as any trace of her evening. Physically drained, she collapsed out of the chair once the mind wipe was complete, and she had to be wheeled off to the Cradle where she could be reminded of her true purpose here.

In 1969, her second “goon litter” was born on a Hydra base in Washington, D.C. Only Prince and the Rhyming Scheme went to see the new triplets in the maternity ward.

“So what’s Mama gonna name them?” Marnie asked she looked at the sleeping baby boy, the only son of this litter.

“That’s not how it works, she doesn’t name them.” Prince explained.

“Then who does?” Barnie’s shoulders jumped in confusion.

“Normally, the father, but if they don’t know who that is, like with you, they leave it to someone else.” Prince pressed his arm against the glass, “The best you can hope for is a theme that makes sense.”

The tech team decided to take care of the naming, and quickly decided to take the easy route and use the Alphabet. They considered the phonetic Alphabet, with the names Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie, but with two girls and one boy, they didn’t want to name one of the girls something masculine like Bravo or Charlie. They did like the idea of naming the son Alpha, since he was the first born and the biggest of the litter. Eventually they decided to use the greek alphabet, and name the girls Beta and Gamma, with Beta as the bigger of the two girls and Gamma as the runt.  

The birth of the Alphabet also marked a new generation of Hydra children, separate from the “Baby boomers” before them. These children would be the few left to keep Mother Winter company as their older siblings were stationed in various places in both North and South Vietnam, taking the war to new levels, working towards Hydra’s goal of global instability.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The father of the Alphabet is Bob.


	13. The One That Got Away

Tony pretended not to notice the first time he saw their faces in those files. He tossed them away for another time because there were more pressing matters at hand, but now that Bucky and Natasha taken charge of the two “Hydra babies” in their custody and the search for more, he made time to peruse more thoroughly. Pepper joined him with coffee and donuts, asserting that he wasn’t going to take this on without her.

“Tony, why are you so focused on these four?” Pepper noticed that he’d had the same files opened all night; he’d been obsessing over the Composers and one of the girls from the “Alphabet.”

“I…I went to school with these guys. We had Science and English together in the 7th grade.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose to ease his sinuses, “They…transferred to my school that year, and told everyone…that they were foster kids…I…The guys were my friends!”

Pepper ran up to massage his arms, “There’s no way you could’ve know who they were, Tony. You were only a kid.”

“You know how every kid has that point where they look at their friends and go ‘Do they really like me? How do I know they don’t all secretly have it out for me?’” Tony jerked his arm towards the screen, staring at the proof that it was true in his case.

“Tony, these kids didn’t have any choices themselves. I’m sure they didn’t hate you.” Pepper insisted.

Tony just shook his head, “You don’t know anything about them. I didn’t even know anything about them! When I knew them, they were Wayne, Brendan, Rolfe, and Gabby. Now this comes out and tells me they’re Wagner, Beethoven, Wolfe, and Gamma?!”

“Those are probably just code names.”

“They’re not code names, Pepper! Those are their real names that are printed on their actual birth certificates.” Tony’s breathing increased, and he started to sweat, “They weren’t treated like agents, they were treated like…dogs…and I thought that S.H.I.E.L.D and Hydra and all this had nothing to do with me until a few years ago, but it turns out.... They’ve been in my house…they’ve been creeping into my life since…I don’t know when…”

“Tony, I think you need to go to bed.” Pepper pulled his hands away from his head, and held them in front of chest.

Tony’s round eyes were wet and glassy as he stared into nothing, “Have I ever told you…about the day my dad sent me to boarding school?”

Pepper gently pulled him to the couch and placed a caring hand on his knee, her eyes already empathetically tearing up.

“Everyone at my school knew who my dad was and that I must have had this super high-tech lab at my house, which I did of course. Everyone obviously wanted to see it, and some didn’t even try to be subtle about why they wanted to come to my house. Then these new kids come in and they never once bring up coming to my house, not for the whole year. They were the nature-type kids who liked hunting and camping, and fishing. They never talked about science unless it was about the best way to cook venison. Seriously, it’s was like they knew nothing other than hunting, and video games.” Tony smiled as the memories played back in his head, “We talked about video games a lot, as 12-year-olds do, and we all made fun of our teachers and how embarrassingly easy the homework was, and so, I invited them to come over. My nanny got permission from my mom, and called their foster parents and got the okay. When they got to my house, they were impressed, as most people were, but they headed straight to my room. They had zero interest in exploring the house; they just seemed so focused on the arcade machines in my room.”

“Did they break into the lab?” Pepper asked.

“I don’t…I’m the one who opened the door because I needed get some parts to fix one of the machines. I don’t know if I left it open, or one of them followed me in to talk to me…but, when, out of the blue, my dad actually came home for once, he saw the lab door open, and strange kids in his house, and he went ballistic. He told me that I was irresponsible and couldn’t afford to be so reckless. I…I started yelling back, and we got into a fight…and…next thing I knew I was packing my bags for Europe.”

“All because you invited your friends over?” Pepper tried to clarify.

“I thought it was because other people touched his stuff,” Tony shrugged, “I didn’t know I brought little kiddie assassins home!”

“Do you think he knew?” 

  
“I don’t know. He ran S.H.I.E.L.D, but they haven’t had any files on Hydra for half a century.” Tony deeply exhaled, “You’re right. I’m going to bed.”

As Tony undressed and sat on the edge of his bed, he recollected the memories that he hadn’t disclosed to Pepper, the ones about Gamma, who he immediately recognized from the smooth Glasgow scar on her right cheek. She even kept her blonde hair in the same Greek braided bun that she had when she was a kid, and the same sad look in her eyes and lips. She was born around the same time he was, but she looked like she was still in her twenties.

He was the one who first approached her, brashly asking about how she got the scar. She stared and rolled his eyes at him and kept on eating her lunch. He apologized. Then, two weeks later, he asked if he could borrow a pencil. She lent him one. Then, he asked about how she got the scar. He was not the most considerate child. This time, the teacher caught him and reprimanded him for asking such an invasive question. He didn’t ask again, but he was still burning to know. Then, about a month later, she paid him a visit by his locker.

“So do you still want to know about my scar?” She smiled sheepishly, clutching her books tightly to her chest.

“Hell yeah, I do.” He responded with more excitement than he intended.

She rubbed her face with the collar of her purple turtleneck, “When I was seven, my parents and I got into a car accident. A truck cut them off and we swerved off the road and our car flipped over and ran into a tree. The glass from the window flew in and cut my face.” She tapped on her scar.

“Did your parents make it?” He asked sympathetically.

“No,” She answered coldly, “That’s why I’m in foster care.”

“I’m sorry.” He frowned.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” She scurried off when the bell rang.

Before Christmas break, he asked her out for pizza. She said yes, and so he had his very first date. When he asked her what kind she wanted, she didn’t have an answer. Any kind was good for her. He ordered them a supreme, and she acted like it was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted.

“Have you never had pizza?” He chuckled.

“Not from here. This is some really good stuff.” She pushed the hot strings of cheese into her mouth.

When they finished, she insisted that he just leave her at the bus station.

“I have a limo, you know. Jarvis can drop you off at your house, in style.” He made that childish hand sliding motion.

“No thanks. I actually can’t let my foster family know I was with you.” She tucked her hands into her sweater pockets.

“You didn’t tell them you went out on a date?” He hoped it wasn’t because she was ashamed of him.

“No, I was kind of supposed to go to ballet practice after school, and I bailed.” She shrugged and smiled nervously.

“You snuck out just to hang out with me?” He blushed and pointed to himself.

“Well yeah, I…really like you.” She almost reached for his hand, but pulled away and blushed.

They sat on the bus station bench in awkward and tense silence, both of them thinking the same thing but waiting for the other to act. Finally, Tony just murmured, “…Gabby?”

“Yeah?” She turned, her face peeking out of her red and black striped scarf. He took a deep breath, and just grabbed her scarred cheek and kissed her right on the lips. She parted her lips slightly and kissed him back, and kissed him again when he tried to pull away. The screech of the bus’s wheels caught them off guard and they both jerked and looked away.

“So…I’ll see ya later then.” Tony tucked his hands into his pocket.

“Yeah…bye.” She ran onto the bus in embarrassment, but watched him see her off, and waved as the bus got further and further away.

Now, 32 years later, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, with tears pouring down his cheeks. His first date, his first kiss…all the things that he thought were as innocent as he was back then were actually corrupted from the start. Cap and Black Widow insisted that finding these Winter Soldiers would be one of their top priorities, and he was ready to confront his old friends, but he wasn’t ready to confront his first love.


	14. Cast Off

Alpha sat at the banks of the river, waiting for a bite, even though he knew that it’s wasn’t the right season. Just sitting there with the green water and grey blanketed sky calmed him. These woods were supposedly uninhabited, so when he heard the footsteps of another human, he instinctively dropped his rod and pulled the gun out of his jacket and aimed at the sound. The target shot it out of his hands with her own gun.

“Wow, I missed you, too.” Beta pursed her lips, not sure which bone she had to pick first.

Alpha didn’t respond, he just glanced at her arms, which were hidden in her jacket sleeves.

“Relax, I took out my tracker.” She responded. He sat back down and kept staring off into the peaceful silent river. She put her gun away and joined him, pressing her shoulder against his. He tried to run off on his own when he saw the news. He, like others, took this big fall as a chance to be free. After a lifetime of him and his sisters being pushed beyond their limits, he just wanted to be alone for once. Of course, Beta made sure that didn’t last long.

“How did you find me?” Alpha murmured.

“I followed your scent,” Beta dryly responded, “from your dirty socks on base to that half-assed campsite you set up.”

“Is-“

“No, Gamma didn’t come with me. She gave herself up.” Beta sarcastically smiled.

“She has it out for us,” Alpha shook his head and rubbed his forehead, “She’ll work herself into the inside, find us, and take us out, personally.”

“No, she’s not. She’s not gonna hold a grudge for what we did, she’s got bigger problems.” Beta assured him. Still, she always looked over her shoulder.

“So what are you gonna do?” Alpha cast his line back into the empty waters.

“I don’t know. I didn’t exactly plan my retirement, like you.” Beta sighed, “I could hunt for Mama on my own.”

Alpha jerked his head quickly, “Hunt?”

“You didn’t know? She’s missing, gone without a trace, apparently. If anyone can erase their tracks, it’s her.” Beta hid her panic well.

“If you found me, you can find her.” Alpha encouraged.

Beta scoffed and swished her brown hair behind her ear, “Sorry, but you suck at disappearing.”

“It was only easy for you because you’re my sister.” Alpha defended himself fervently.

“I guess that’s true.” She leaned back against the ground, “The only people you have to worry about scaling these mountains are the bored rich people who attempt it for fun.”

“I know. That’s why I picked it!” He nearly barked.

“Easy, boy.” She stood back up and started walking away, “By the way, I’ll be dropping in for visits whenever I feel like it. Try not to shoot me.”

* * *

 

“It’s over. Fury has released everything to the public.” Dr. List informed Baron Wolfgang von Strucker, with Duke standing diligently at attention.

“Everything he knows about.” Strucker clarified and noticed Duke’s chin pushing forward and his tongue pushing through his cheek, “Do you have something to add, my boy?”

“Yes, Father.” Duke answered politely.

“You may speak.”

“Father, Baron has abandoned us, and surrendered to SHIELD.” Duke reported, expecting his father to feel the same anger and betrayal, but was met with a dull shrug.

“I am aware. I watch the news.”

“If he is in their custody, he will foolishly share classified information that wasn’t released already. I tried to retrieve him from his holding cell, but he was already checked out by Tony Stark.” Duke was clearly shocked that his father was not more upset, so he tried to push every detail like a conviction.

“My heir is not foolish. We now have a man on the inside. Anything he shares will surely be inconsequential to us, but will be enough to gain their trust. You are too quick to doubt his cleverness.” Strucker blew off his son’s concerns and walked to his more important projects.

“Herr Strucker, if they get word of our work here. If they find out we serve Hydra-“ Dr. List actually supported Duke on this.

“Hydra. SHIELD. Two sides of a coin that is no longer currency.” Strucker strolled over to his prized possession, Loki’s abandon scepter that they had collected not long after the Battle of New York, and Dr. List and Duke followed behind him, “What we have is more than any of them ever knew. We have only scratched the surface and we have already…”

Strucker was so mesmerized with the glowing orb of the scepter that he ignored his company for a moment. As his father mused over his work, Duke felt his world collapsing inside himself. All his training, and all his education…Everything he had been told since his birth about Hydra, was that all worthless? He expected his dedication would be rewarded and his brother’s deception would be punished, but apparently it was the other way around.

“There are other facilities doing Hydra’s good work around the world. We’ll feed them to Captain America and his colorful friends. Baron will ensure they keep off our scent.” Strucker instructed them, with Duke still obediently following behind, but noticing the stack of bodies being led out of the laboratory.

“What of the volunteers?” Dr. List asked.

“Duke here will bury the bodies so deep, their ghosts won’t be able to find them.” Strucker indirectly gave his faithful son his next mission, so Duke immediately took off to get to work on disposing of his father’s experiments, as he was used to doing by now.

“And the survivors?” Dr. List continued.

“The twins…” Strucker smiled at his impressive creations, more unique and powerful than even his own winter soldiers, “Sooner or later, sooner or later they will meet the twins. It’s not a world of spies anymore, not even an age of heroes. It is the age of miracles, Doctor, and there is nothing more horrifying than a miracle.”


	15. The Composers

“Okay, I’ll go pick him up. Yes, I’ll talk to him about it. Love you too, bye.” Alexander Pierce hung up his office phone. He retrieved his pants off the chair and buttoned himself.

“So apparently, my son got detention, for getting into a fight on the playground.” He smiled at his Asset laying stomach flat across the desk, “Kids, right? I’m sure he had a good reason. He’s a good kid; he wouldn’t bully someone for fun.”

Mother Winter pushed herself off the desk and stoically slipped back into her black cat suit and buckled her silver belt with the red star buckle. Pierce pushed her hair behind her ear and grabbed her waist, “I got a surprise for you.”

She froze, waiting for orders, or a new weapon she would have to learn to use.

“Your guys are doing such great work out there; it’s opened up a lot of your schedule. We may not have to send you in until December.”

That was not a surprise. As far as she knew, he always told her about how good of a job her Winter Soldiers were doing in Vietnam. Since they were old enough, her Bluebloods and Olympians were recruited into S.H.I.E.L.D and Pierce pulled the strings to get them stationed in Saigon, while the Zodiacs and Purebloods joined the secret Russian forces in Hanoi. After all, they were technically Russian. What they didn’t explain to her was how their mission was to wreak havoc on all fronts of the war, scaring the populations in all countries involved and making them question their trust in the current systems in place, thereby shaping them for Hydra’s eventual new order.

“That gives us enough time to get some more soldiers from you.” Pierce wrapped one arm around her stomach and groped her with the other, “You and me.”

In soldier mode, her typical response would be only to nod to indicate she understood her present mission. In mother mode, she’d have two responses: first to quietly whimper because her body would be hurt again, and then immediately calm down with the prospect of new children who needed her. However, since she was in whore mode, her trained response was to reach for his belt buckle.

“Easy, tiger.” Pierce stopped her by grabbing her wrists, “I’ve got somewhere to be right now, but…” He stroked her chin, “…how would you like to join me on a private camping trip? No missions, no training exercises, just you and me, and the great outdoors?”

She blinked, and the corner of her lip twitched. It didn’t matter how she responded because Pierce wouldn’t let her say no. It didn’t matter that she’d only had her Alphabet delivered eight months ago. Her bags were being packed with hunting rifles, a sleeping bag, and trail mix. The fresh berries and nuts would actually be the highlight of the experience, since it was a tasty alternative to her canned vitamin soup.

On the other side of the world, Hera’s jaw and dropped off the desk of her computer in Hydra’s secret laboratory on the S.H.I.E.L.D base. The secret millimeter camera she developed and snuck onto her mother’s belt was meant to just see what she was doing whenever she or her siblings got homesick. When she turned it on towards the end of a “meeting” with Alexander Pierce, she felt sick to her stomach, even though it wasn’t anything she hadn’t accidentally walked in on several times in the past. However, she caught just the moment where he told Mother Winter about making more soldiers. She had to tell the others.

The Winter Soldiers met every other week in their private warehouse which they had converted into a lounge, but one beep from their pagers was all it took to summon them at any time.

“Hera, darling, I love you, but this better be an emergency.” Libra tapped her painted fingernails on her elbows.

“Couldn’t it have waited until after working hours? I was this close to being caught by Chief Carter.” Duchess griped, rubbing some dirt off the logo of her S.H.I.E.L.D uniform.

“Mama is having another litter, with Pierce.” Hera bluntly put it out there, and was met with hisses and moans.

“So soon? But she just had a litter.” Prince said, unsure if it was a risk for her health.

“She had Libra and me not long after the Purebloods were born, she’ll be fine.” Scorpio assured him.

“At least we know who the father is this time.” Duke shrugged.

“And he’s high in the ranks, and he’s got impressive qualities; looks like they have standards again.” Duchess added.

“Plus, he’s her handler. It’s only the natural choice.” Baron nodded.

“When can we expect the new babies?” Arnie asked.

“Well, she’s not pregnant yet. Pierce is taking her on a ‘romantic’ camping trip.” Hera explained.

“Since when do the commanders take Mama on dates?” Zeus scrunched his face in confusion.

Roman was pacing back and forth, feeling a rage build up, “Are we just going to ignore that they’re hurting her again? Have you forgotten the mornings where they would dump her on our floor tied up, bruised and bleeding? How can you all stay here and let that happen?”

The rest of the group just stared at Roman, reciting the rule in monotonous unison, “Do not question the commanders.”

“Roman,” Charity pulled him aside and whispered warningly, “You’ve been skipping on the powdered milk, haven’t you?”

“It doesn’t taste right. I want the real thing.” Roman frowned like a stubborn toddler.

Charity rolled his eyes, “Well we can’t have the real thing out here, and if you don’t drink it, your handlers will notice and there’s going to be consequences.”

Roman grumbled. He couldn’t stand the powdered forms and the tablets, and even if he tolerated the milk cartons and pouches, nothing beat nursing straight from Mama’s breast. It was more than just the taste, it was the way she wrapped her arms around him and petted his soft red hair and nuzzled into his neck and shoulders. She did this even when he grew too big for her to carry, and he had to pick her up so that her chest would meet his mouth. Every time she returned from another “party” injured, all of her children rushed to her aid, but Roman was always the first to reach her and pick her up off the floor. She never said a word as they dressed her wounds, but she touched their cheeks and pressed them closer to her, unzipping her suit and offering her breast to them if it wasn’t already exposed. She did this often whenever they were upset, for she seemed to react to their pain more than her own.

Once Pierce took Mother Winter on his camping trip, the Winter Soldiers would sneak into the secret Hydra lab periodically to check on her. They watched her catch fish with only a knife, and hunt deer with her assault rifle. Pierce cooked up whatever she caught and laughed as she ripped into the meat without utensils. The bastard even brought his guitar so he could sing campfire songs to her as she sat silently on the round log.

Once it was completely dark, Pierce lay her down next to him under the stars, as he told the stories of every constellation he could spot. He especially had fun explaining the Hydra constellation to her. Once she was tired, she immediately went to the tent, undressing and leaving her belt in the corner before slipping into her sleeping bag.

With a sly smile, Pierce followed her into the tent and unzipped the length of her sleeping bag and opened it up. Her dull empty eyes couldn’t see anything in the pitch black darkness, but she was ready for whatever self-indulgent activity he had planned next. She felt him slip the bra straps off down her arms and kiss her shoulders softly. After the sound of some furious unbuttoning and unzipping, she felt him mounting her, and her wrists were forced above her head. As he trailed his tongue down her neck, he whispered in her ear,

“I know who you are. I went to your show when I was a child. I’ve always wanted to do this to you.”

She hissed as he grinded into her and squeezed her wrists harder. She was physically trapped by his figure hidden in the dark. That uncomfortable pressure in her stomach that was too familiar pained her, and she had to wait it out as usual until he was done. Even as his grunting stopped and he released his final sigh, Pierce pulled her close to him, pressing her head to his chest as well as groping hers. He held onto her like a doll the whole night, caressing her as he pleased until morning light.

His possessive attitude towards her lasted all the way up until she went into labor. However, he was not able to attend the birth, since it was on Christmas Eve, and he had his _real_ family to attend to. Naming them had to wait until after the holidays, and Pierce ultimately decided on naming them after his favorite Composers: Wagner, Wolfgang, and Beethoven.

Mother Winter held her new triplets tightly, having received something beautiful for Christmas for once.


	16. Empty

Beethoven brushed his long light blonde bangs out of the way to keep watching the old Captain America footage he found in the online archives, even though his eyes were starting to sting. It was jarring to see his mother smile, and to think she used to do it all the time. This video showed her in her colorful mascot outfit with bouncy blonde curls and rocket red lipstick as she met President Roosevelt, shaking his hand and laughing as he tapped his cheek asking for a kiss. While his siblings were trying to wrap their head around the fact that their mother started out as Hydra’s greatest enemy, Beethoven was trying to understand the different person she used to be. She was once lively and full of laughter. Her eyes and teeth used to sparkle. Reading the articles about her, he found out she used to be stubborn and strong-willed. If someone hit her, she hit them back ten times harder. She only obeyed the orders that made sense to her.

She’d been married to the current Captain America, the one all of them had been told to kill on-sight. The way they looked at each other made every shot of them look romantic even through all the grime and shouting orders and gunfire. He was the only one who made her look truly happy. He’d never seen her look that way at them. Of course, as the quiet muscle of his litter, Beethoven knew that actions spoke louder than words or facial expressions. Beethoven knew she loved him every time she brushed blood or dirt off his cheek or lay a hand on his shoulder before he marched to take out a target. To him, to all of them, it was the most genuine feeling in the world. At least, back then it was.

Now, he didn’t know if she had even been capable of love. He felt warm tears drip down his chin, because he wanted to believe that her love and devotion for them was real, but everything he found said that the woman they called Mama was a hollow shell. Her “motherly love” was a set of programmed responses to their stimuli. When they cried, she had no choice but to pick them up. When they fell asleep on her, she had to pet them delicately. If they were hungry, she was obligated to unzip her top and feed them.

When Mother Winter returned from her fight with Captain Barnes and Agent Romanoff on the highway, he’d been brought in alongside his father to find out the progress on the mission. She looked more frazzled that usual as she rested her arms on her knees, like the gears in her head were turning. She stared right through the sweat-covered messy blonde strands in front of her face. She told them that she knew the man on the bridge. She’d been starting to recognize her old love! No matter how many times his father reminded her that this man wanted to destroy their family, she kept that curious look on her face. Beethoven had noticed that it was starting to change her, and unfortunately his father did, too. He ordered that the tech team wipe her and start over.

Beethoven’s body had clenched all over, and those scientists learned why it was unwise for them to put her in the machine while her children were in the room. He fought through his key instinct to obey and lunged at them the moment they laid their hands on her. He managed to throw one of them across the room until Agent Rollins took him down and pinned his arms behind his back and stunned him back into submission. Pierce had already turned his back on the both of them as he calmly left the facility. Rollins had to drag him out, and Beethoven only got one last glance at his mother as the machine restrained her and she wailed between clenched teeth through all the horrible electrical noises.

That was the last time he saw her. Her last lucid memory of him would be of how he failed to protect her. How could she love him? Now that she was out there, free of Hydra, and SHIELD, free of all these bastards she never asked for, who had been draining her of her youth and livelihood until this bright and bold woman who used to have everything was reduced to a gun-shooting baby-making pleasure doll?

By the time Wolfe walked in with a cup of ramen noodles, Beethoven was lying face up on his bed, soaked in tears, with his hands on his stomach feeling himself slowly breathe.

“What’s wrong, man? Is Uncle Weiner’s humble abode not to your liking?” Wolfe sat in the spinning chair that went with the desk in their assigned room.

“We were the worst things to happen to her.” Beethoven mumbled in his low voice.

“Why do you watch those old tapes? They’re fake as hell.” Wolfe talked through his cheeks full of noodles.

“They’re not. That’s the real Mama.” Beethoven murmured without even looking back at laptop on the desk.

“With all the make-up they put on her for these things, she might as well be wearing a mask.” Wolfe rolled his chair over the screen and pointed out every smile, “Fake. Fake. Really fake. Fake. Fake…Geez, it’s like looking at giant Barbie doll.”

“How are they fake?”

“Those are just camera smiles. Dad uses them all the time, at every party, at every press conference, at every meeting with Director Fury. You see, if you look really closely, you can see the big chunks of bullshit stuck in those teeth.” Wolfe gave one himself to demonstrate.

“There’s no bullshit with Barnes.” Beethoven rebutted.

“Maybe not, but you see, that was then, this is now. Look her back then, she was irresistible, everyone could fall in love with that. But, she’s different now, and Barnes may not like that so much. He’s had more than enough time to move on. He’s got all these new friends, and I’m telling you, what I saw between him and the Black Widow…” Wolfe whistled and shook his head, “…he’d be crazy not to get with that.”

“But she was his _wife_ …”

“Um, so?” Wolfe tsked, “Maggie is Dad’s wife. Does that stop him from banging Mama on his kitchen table? How many of her friendly little suitors have wives?”

Beethoven thought for a moment, and then asked, “Are we talking about currently or in the past year?”

“That was rhetorical.” Wolfe rolled his eyes.

Beethoven slumped to his side and curled up.

Wolfe exited out of the video and plopped the laptop next to Beethoven, “I can see you’re having a crisis and all, but unless you want Duke to kick your ass, I suggest you keep working narrowing down locations where she might’ve gone.”

“She doesn’t want to be found.” Beethoven retorted.

“Well whether or not she wants to be found, I don’t want you to be banished for being dead weight, so get to it, big boy.” Wolfe pushed the laptop closer to him. Beethoven, however, refused to move.

“Fine, don't say I never did anything for you.” Wolfe cracked his fingers and took the laptop for himself.


	17. That Wasn't a Part of the Plan

Once they were eighteen, the Rhyming Scheme was sent to Hanoi to join the Purebloods and Zodiacs in the Soviet forces. After a year of service, they proved that these Winter Soldiers could hold their own in humid jungles just as well as the frozen tundra. America was already losing their faith in the war, and all the soldiers who fought in it, their job was just to hammer the last nail in the coffin by destroying the civilian villages were helping the US forces. It was a simple pattern now. S.H.I.E.L.D gets the location of the village, Hermes sends that information to Scorpio in the KGB, the Zodiacs create a mission strategy, and then the Rhyming Scheme go blow it up. It was becoming a routine.

“Chief Carter’s starting to catch on that the villages are being discovered almost _too_ quickly.” Princess warned Baron once they were alone in S.H.I.E.L.D’s security blind spot.

“The Viet Cong has the upper hand, it shouldn’t surprise her.” Baron assured.

“You know the Chief, at this rate, she’ll set up a trap to catch the bombers and stop the leak.” Princess argued. While she didn’t care much for the Rhyming Scheme, if Carter caught even a glimpse of one of them, it could compromise their whole operation. As long as they didn’t give her a trail to follow, they were safe.

“And then we’ll get the Purebloods to spring the trap.” Baron retorted, which shut Princess right up, but an outline of a plan didn’t satisfy her as much as a full plan would. However, it was out of their hands until the Chief decided her next move.

Sure enough, Peggy _did_ notice the pattern of village bombings and made a plan of attack. She chose to catch the bombers first, and use the leak of information to draw them to a fictitious village in a location that would be armed with S.H.I.E.L.D agents, ready to ambush the intruders.

“We should just not go.” Libra suggested as she rested her legs on the couch arm in the private lounge, “Who walks into an ambush?”

“If we’re a no-show, she just might reschedule. If they get desperate, they’ll try to catch us in a real village. Then what, they just never go back?” Charity sat in the lounge chair and with his fingers pressed together.

“So you’re saying you want them to go even though that’s where S.H.I.E.L.D expects them to go? That’s not how we work, we were made for stealth.” Scorpio crossed his legs on the couch and tried to touch Libra’s hair but she swatted his hand away.

The rest of the Winter Soldiers crowded around the living area, awaiting orders from Roman and Charity. In the absence of a commander, the Purebloods took control. Considering their mother and their father, rallying the troops was in their nature.

“We go and we obliterate them. Instead of avoiding the trap, we destroy it.” Roman grinded his fist into his palm.

“With all due respect to the goon litter, I know the S.H.I.E.L.D agents, and while most of them are pea-brains, there’s a few that won’t be massacred so easily.” Duke countered.

“Fair enough. We’ll all go.” Charity shrugged and slyly smiled, “Roman and me, Libra and Scorpio, and the Rhyming Scheme. We’ll be in and out in ten minutes flat, and as long as the Olympians jam the communicators during that time, they’ll lose contact with HQ and S.H.I.E.L.D won’t even know what hit them.”

By pure luck, Prince, or “Agent Percy Prince” as he was known in S.H.I.E.L.D, was assigned to the ambush, making him the inside man of the mission whose job was to be the traumatized sole survivor who would fall to Chief Carter’s feet crying that they did everything they could but the mysterious killers came and went without a trace of who they are. Within the days, a fake village was set up with agents and artillery hidden inside the rows of bamboo huts. He squeezed himself in near the window, so he could see his siblings’ shadowy figures hiding in the trees, waiting for the signal to strike. After sunset, the moon was too well-hidden behind the jungle tops, leaving the site in almost absolute darkness.

At S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, Peggy stood in front of the wall-sized monitor with twenty screens showing different angles of the village. As the sunlight disappeared, so did the images on the screen.

“Activate night vision.” Peggy sternly ordered with focused eyes.

As the agents turned on their night-vision goggles, Hades slid his hand across his control panel and “accidentally” hit a set of buttons with the bottom of his palm, quietly whispering,

“Oops.”

Static and loud white noise burst throughout the room, as every screen flashed black and white and rows of lines ran down and distorted the picture until the monitors went blank.

“What happened?!” Peggy shouted.

“We’ve lost the signal, Chief!”

“Well get it back!”

Back at the village, the Rhyming Scheme jumped on the roofs and stabbed holes to drop grenades that spooked the confused agents out of the huts and onto the grassy floors where the Zodiacs and Purebloods were waiting in black leather suits and gas masks to be surrounded. Armed with a machine gun, Roman fired rounds into the crowd. Once he was out of ammunition, he just starting grabbing whoever was closest and stabbed a hole that went all the way through them so he could stick his big muscular hands in and rip them in half. Libra jump-spun and threw knives that each landed in a different skull. In the madness, Prince could sneak up behind his fellow agents and literally stab them in the back with his butterfly knife before retreating to his hiding spot away from the bloodbath. Scorpio chased after those trying to escape and shot them down before they could reach the trees. Charity flipped guys more than twice his weight over his head and crushed their skulls with a powerful stomp from his spiked boots. Arnie, Barnie, and Marnie also joined the fight on the ground once they finished lighting up every hut, standing back to back to back, shooting those from a distance and knifing them when they got too close.

Within seven minutes, the painful death screams and futile commands came to a halt. The burning bamboo illuminated the piles of dead bodies scattered about, floating in the river of blood that ran through the grass.

“Check for survivors.” Charity ordered the Rhyming Scheme. They silently nodded, clutching their knives, ready to slice throats. They started with the stray bodies lying by themselves, quickly stabbing each in the chest, just to make sure. Then came the large piles. They circled around the largest one, listening for any signs of breathing or hints of groaning. When they heard nothing, they grabbed a stick of burning bamboo and threw it into the pile to torch the flesh for good.

As they were finishing up the inspection, their extraction helicopter arrived over the scene, and all the Winter Soldiers started climbing up the rope ladder. Marnie had just torched the last pile, but barely missed the body that crawled out from under his fallen teammates. She heard the shuffling behind her, but when spun around with her knife ready to cut across his face, the agent had already ducked and tackled her to the ground.

“Marnie!” Barnie and Arnie cried out as they jumped from the ladder and ran back to her aid.

“Go! I can take him!” Marnie shouted in broken Russian, as she struggled with the agent and managed to flip herself on top.

Arnie listened to her. He did as she said and ran back to the helicopter. Barnie did not. He continued to run towards her and the surviving agent. As he got closer, he saw them rolling around until they suddenly stopped, with Marnie over the agent with fists clenching his shoulders. He halted a few feet away from the body, thinking that she had won, and the mission was officially a completed success.

Suddenly, the agent pushed her limp body off of him, revealing her lifeless face and the knife lodged inside her chest. Barnie panicked, and filled with rage, he lost focus and just blindly rushed at the agent screaming. While still on the ground, the agent aimed his gun at Barnie’s chest, and shot him point blank once he was close enough. Barnie fell to his knees with eyes staring into nothing, and drool running down his chin. With his last few moments, he crawled to his sister’s corpse, but the life in him extinguished just before his hand could reach hers.

Prince ran up to the scene two seconds too late. The tears and heavy legs he’d prepared to feign for Chief Carter quickly became real. No, this couldn’t be right. This had never happened before. Winter Soldiers were the greatest soldiers there were, they weren’t supposed to be killed. Not like this. Not on this mission that they’d so often that it had become second nature to them. What would this mean for the rest of them? And more importantly, what would this do to Mama?

Prince fell on his hands and knees, sniffling through heavy breaths and adding tears to the mixture of blood beneath him. The surviving agent stood up and rushed over to him, kneeling down and picking his face up in his hands.

“Percy…Percy! Snap out of it! We got to get the hell out of here!” The agent shook him, trying to knock him out of his shell-shocked state.

Prince looked straight into his eyes and hid the poison in his voice as he spoke the name of the man who murdered them,

“Agent Fury, thank God you’re alive.”

* * *

 

Mother Winter screeched so violently, her young children could hear her from several rooms away. When Pierce broke the news to her, he had foolishly hoped it would inspire vengeance in her that they could use to motivate her for future missions. Instead, she fell on the floor and slowed her breathing like someone had triggered her fail-safe. She was still for a full minute, and then took a big gasp for air before letting out a siren holler that lasted almost as long as the silence. Her muscles spasmed like she was having a seizure. Any henchmen who went near her got knocked across the room, so Pierce quickly shuffled everyone out and locked her in isolation until she eventually calmed down or passed out. It took several hours of waiting until she finally went silent.

When they took her down to her special chair, Pierce explained that he wanted her set back to normal. However, even after several mind-wipes in a row, she still started screaming again. While she was still restrained, the doctors gave her a powerful sedative to buy them time to discuss a new strategy.

“If she sees even the slightest thing that reminds her of the offspring, she’ll go off like this.”

“What if we remove her entire memory of them? If she doesn’t remember they existed, she can’t mourn them.”

“Here’s the issue. One of the triplets survived. Every memory she has of them from the day they were born are of all of them together. We can’t simply cut two of them out of the memory and leave one in place. It’s all or nothing.”

“So erase all of it.”

“But if she even looks at the boy, it could undo all of our work.”

“She forgets about him, and then, we never let them see each other again. He’s 19 anyway, he’s old enough to be on his own.”

* * *

 

Hera had quickly forged false identities for Barnie and Marnie on the fly, and printed them out just as Chief Carter showed up in the autopsy room to check on the bodies.

“These two aren’t ours.” Peggy stopped and stood with her arms cross in front of Barnie and Marnie’s remains.

“These are two of the Russian spies who attacked us.” Hera read off the piece of papers coldly, “Names are Olga and Nikolai Petrov, twins, recruited straight out of the orphanage. Records show they weren’t in the KGB very long.”

“I should hope not, they look so young,” Peggy had learned years ago how to put the tears away, but still frowned, “although unfortunately, I’ve seen younger.”

“What should we do with the bodies, Chief?” Hera asked.

“Send them home.” Peggy ordered, and turned away as she couldn’t bear to look at the grey youthful faces anymore.

“They have no family.” Hera reminded her.

“Everyone has family. You found their records, now look harder. Find the parents, alive or deceased. Spread their ashes on their family’s graves if you have to. I will not throw another child into an unmarked grave.” Peggy commanded, with horrible memories flashing behind her sagging eyes.

Hera nodded. The Chief has given her orders, but unfortunately, Hera could not obey. She wanted to send the bodies home to their mother, but the Hydra commanders wanted them cremated, and their ashes disposed of in the swamps of the jungle. As the only living evidence that they ever existed, Arnie was hidden away in an underground laboratory, frozen until his services were needed. However, Prince had managed to keep one shred of proof to himself. Every night, before he went to sleep, he looked at the one picture he had taken of all three of the Rhyming Scheme triplets around a campfire in their wilderness training, huddled together for warmth.


	18. The Coffee Pot

_1982_

“Why are they even trying to impress this guy? He didn’t win the election.” Hera took a handful of gel and rubbed it between her fingers before running down the waves of her mother’s hair. Mother Winter sat patiently in the hotel chair, with her satin robe covering her lacy lingerie underneath.

“That’s why they’re interested in him. If Hydra gets him elected Senator the next time around and all those afterwards, we have another hand in Congress.” Libra explained while brushing Mother Winter’s lips a rosy red.

“Why not just get the senators they have now?” Hera asked, still unclear on why they were ordered to doll up their mother to seduce a loser.

“Because, my darling, those ones already have their hands tied in all the deals he made to get those seats.” Libra carefully traced a thick black line under the eyes, “Stern has a clean slate since he lost everything. Besides, he’s the puppet type who tries to please. Easy target.”

“If it’s supposed to be that easy, why do they need to throw Mama in the deal? Won’t the promise of a lifetime in the Senate be enough?” Hera felt sick as continued to fix her mother’s hair, but kept doing it anyway, almost thoughtlessly.

“If logic doesn’t get through to him,” Libra finished off with the dramatic auburn blush that had come into style with the new decade, “His base needs will.”

“I got the dress.” Charity entered with the strapless heart-bodiced red dress….on his own body. It was clearly too big for him, but he kept it on with the invisible plastic straps hung on his shoulders, even though the unfilled cups dangled on his chest like empty bowls. He cat-walked past them, holding up the bottom so it wouldn’t drag, and displayed his heeled foot on the bed, with his slender leg peeking out of the slit of the dress, “Rawr.”

“That’s not a costume to play in.” Libra gasped and carefully slipped the dress right off of him, “Do you have any idea how much it cost?”

“Of course I do, I was just breaking it in for her.” Charity crossed his arms in defense as he stood there left in only the heels and his lacy panties.

Mother Winter could usually dress herself, but anyone would need assistance to fit into this dress. Libra unhooked the shoulder straps to her bra, converting it into a strapless that hid well under her dress. When filled properly, the dress clung tightly to all her curves, and the bottom hem fell just above her ankles.

“Oh Mother, you look ravishing.” Libra gushed proudly over their work and led to her to the mirror.

The “Whore” blinked at her own reflection, unable to perceive herself as the curvaceous Amazon in the mirror’s image. Hydra’s most valuable asset had no concept of beauty or pride. If the baby said she looked correct for this mission, then she’d just have to take her word for it. She stared at the reflection and tried to touch it, but Charity pulled her away from the mirror soon enough.

“Okay, no time for existential crises right now. The limo is waiting.” Charity took her by the arm. He learned a long time ago that her mind was too far gone to be grasp even the most basic self-recognition.

* * *

 

The chauffer was the only company in the limo with her until they picked up Mr. Stern and Alexander Pierce from the restaurant.

“Good to know we share principles, Mr. Stern. I’m sure you’ll work well into our ranks.” Pierce slid into his seat on Mother Winter’s side of the vehicle just as finished off a conversation that he must’ve started hours ago. Stern, who was more than just tipsy from the champagne, stumbled into his seat, with his bushy brown hair pressing against the minibar. Once he rolled over on his side, he caught a glimpse at the tall blonde who occupied the seat in front of him, poised with cold blue eyes.

“Woah, is this Mrs. Pierce?” Stern slurred as he sat up and fixed his suit.

Pierce chuckled in amusement and ran his hand over her leg, “No, this is one of our special agents. You can just call her Svetlana. Svetlana, this is Mr. Stern.”

“Oooh, Svetlana. I like the sound of that.” Stern sounded hooked already.

Every time she was used as a honeypot, she was given a new name. This time it was Svetlana, last time was Marguerite, and the time before that, it was Francesca. They figured the more European-sounding it was, the better. With a quick whisper in her ear, Pierce set her to whore mode, and her body language immediately fell into place.

“Hello, Mr. Stern.” She started off slowly with the welcoming rub on the leg, bending forward in a way that displayed her cleavage as best as she could. As Pierce talked Stern’s head off during the ride, she eventually moved herself to the target’s side of the limo. His quick glances turned into longing gazes and toothy smiles that indicated she was doing her job right. When he thought he was being sneaky, Stern slipped an arm behind her, rubbing across the small of her back before hooking his grip on her waist. When she looked at him with her parted red lips and bedroom eyes, he snuck his hands upwards and grabbed a quick feel of her big chest.

The limo dropped off Pierce at his own house, a small but elegant home in a gated community with a tire swing in the green grassy front yard.

“I’ll just let Svetlana here keep you company.” Pierce offered with a friendly wink and click of the tongue.

As soon as the limo took off, Stern practically pounced on her, with the scent of alcohol detectable in his sweat.

“I’ve met my fair share of women in this job, but you…you are just a knockout.” He murmured as he sloppily kissed her on her neck.

When his lips met hers, she responded appropriately, cupping his cheek and opening her mouth for him to invade. She lay across the seat, inviting him to mount her and fulfill his drunken fantasy. He reached through the leg slit of her dress and pet her anxious core, sticking his fingers in and scissoring them around to make her gasp and moan. He pulled her sheer lacy panties off and unzipped himself, furiously wanting to feel her from the inside. She felt his whole weight pressed on top of her as he jerked in quick lustful thrusts.

When his face pressed into her shoulders, she had nowhere to look but up at the ceiling of the limo, noticing the small convex lense in the corner, probably a security camera built in to monitor her activity. The shape of the shiny surface distorted the reflection, stretching their heads but shortening the rest of their bodies, and blurring them into fuzzy blobs. As far as she knew, the scene she witnessed in this mirror was just that, a scene, like in a cartoon or a movie, disconnected from her in an artificial setting. As the scene played out, she watched the pulsing red, black and yellow amorphous blob with amusement, distancing herself from the man heaving on top of her as he finished in her.

Stern wasn’t informed of her pregnancy until he was fully accepted into Hydra and given the clearance to know about the true nature of Mother Winter, which was only a few weeks before her expected due date.

“The doctor says its triplets, Mr. Stern. All girls. You should be proud.” Pierce smiled as he lay the sonograms on the table. Stern was too busy rubbing his temples to open his eyes and look at them.

“I knew this was some shady stuff, but this is more than I bargained for.” Stern wiped the sweat off his forehead with Pierce’s lent handkerchief.

“Relax, you don’t have to do anything. Hydra takes care of all their needs. You don’t have to pay them or even see them if you don’t want to. It’s all up to you.” Pierce assured him, “Of course, I’m sure you’ll find them useful once they’re full grown and fully trained. Think of it as leaving a permanent legacy within Hydra. You should feel honored.”

“What do you even name triplets?” Stern took a deep breath and finally looked at the pictures.

“It’s a lot easier when you think of what you would name a new litter of puppies, so don’t feel pressured to give them names you would give normal children.” Pierce explained, slowly pulling the sense of burden and responsibility off of Stern’s shoulders.

When they were born, they were named Latte, Espresso, and Decaf, under the team name “the Coffee Pot.” Stern had missed the birth but dropped by when he could sneak away from his real life to get a glimpse at his new daughters, each with a different color in their hair. While he was reasonably pleased, he was not nearly as ecstatic as Libra, who jumped with the same giddiness she had as a child with new sisters to take under her wing.

The other children had mixed feelings about the new litter. They saw Stern as an average joe, even if he wasn’t exactly a henchman and did have political potential. When Gamma looked at them, she trembled and touched the Glasgow scar on her cheek. After the erasure of the Rhyming Scheme, the remaining “goon litter” had suffered terribly, even at the hands of their own siblings. Luckily, once Stern was elected Senator of Pennsylvania a few years later, the Coffee Pot’s value as stock immediately increased. They were the daughters of a U.S Senator, and beautiful ones at that, giving them a special place in Hydra’s ranks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey faithful readers!  
> Have you been struggling keeping up with who's who? Well you're in luck, because I am now releasing special behind the scenes content to help you keep up with each litter. This Powerpoint has pictures, names, dates, and other important info about each Hydra litter revealed so far. With every introduction to a new litter, there will be a new slide given in the notes of that chapter. 
> 
> https://www.dropbox.com/s/5ripbg35k1h9nlo/H%20babies%201-8.pptx?dl=0
> 
> But that's not all!  
> I have also made an Ask Mother Winter blog on Tumblr! Send all your invasive and trashy questions to Stephanie herself at askmotherwinter.tumblr.com 
> 
> Thank you so much for your readership, and I appreciate your feedback!


	19. Familiar Faces

By the time they exited the office building, they were already surrounded by FBI agents. Stern’s three “staff assistants” raised up their guns and shielded him from the agents.

“Girls, don’t. Just stand down, I’m sure we can settle this another way.” Normally, Senator Stern would’ve let his Winter Soldiers take care of this, but now that the Hydra within S.H.I.E.L.D was compromised, it was dangerous to try and escape now, “Just do as they say.”

The three young ladies in matching suits that differed in color rolled their eyes as they put their guns away and held their hands out to be cuffed so they could be taken into the steel truck.

“We could’ve handled these guys.” Espresso shook her dark brown wiry curls out of her face.

“We haven’t done anything wrong. They can’t do to this to us.” Latte insisted.

“Don’t say anything without a lawyer present.” Stern fearfully warned them.

And with that, the ride got quieter, and the bumpy road made the women jostle on the metal bench. The uncertainty made them nervous. They were used to this kind of thing on a spy mission, but now that their double lives as Stern’s employees (the only young and attractive ladies on his staff he hadn’t slept with) were officially over, they weren’t sure how to go out in public being the Winter Soldiers they were. If anything, the soldier life had become more background since they’d turned 18, when they were initially brought on as interns and later hired as members of their father’s staff. Since then, their job was to hide in plain sight as Hydra’s least suspicious agents of chaos. They went on high-risk missions overseas from time to time, and of course they were as lethal as any of their other siblings, but they were the ones who didn’t need to break into parties because they were personally invited. When their father had it out for someone, it was their job to spark a scandal or add fuel to a reputation-ruining fire.

“Hey…” Decaf couldn’t stand the silence anymore, “…remember the time we were at Tony Stark’s party and we threw those vases and he shot them with his suit and then his friend got mad and stole his suit and his girlfriend dumped him and they basically just left him to die alone?”

“I was this close to getting one myself.” Latte threw her head backwards, “but then they broke in through the floor.”

“You know I’ve slept with him three times and he still doesn’t recognize me?” Decaf weakly smiled.

“Oh my God, you only say that every other week, no one cares.” Espresso groaned, to which Decaf quickly shut her mouth again.

Suddenly, the truck stopped and the metal doors whooshed open, and a muscular African-American gentleman in sunglasses smiled charmingly,

“Afternoon, ladies. I’m Sam Wilson and I’m here to take you on a little detour.”

* * *

 

“Oh wow, it’s so much nicer in person!” Latte sounded in between vapid and sarcastic, acting like she’d never been to the Stark Tower before.

“Save it, Charlie’s Angels. We know who you are.” Sam stood behind them as he led them inside with them still in their handcuffs.

“And just who are you? I’ve never seen you in the Avengers before.” Espresso looked him up and down in the elevator.

“I wouldn’t call myself an Avenger, just a guy on Captain America’s team.” Sam didn’t look any one of them in the eye. They arrived on a floor with nothing but holding cells, with two of them already filled with a couple of their brothers.

“Oh, you brought Starbucks, that’s so nice of you. I was thirsty.” Baron smiled as he leaned his chair back into the wall of his new cell. Just because he did the Avengers a favor didn’t mean they were going to let him roam freely. At least now he had a TV and a real bed.

“Haha, that was really funny the first time.” Latte smirked and stuck her tongue out at him. She looked over to the other cell, curious as to who was tucked into the bed. Arnie revealed his face when he rolled to the other side as he peacefully slept.

“Who is that?” Latte asked, stopping in front of the cell. She’d never seen him before, no one in the Coffee Pot had, or anyone born after them for that matter.

“That’s the guy from the lost litter.” Baron answered nonchalantly.

“No way. Are you serious? He’s real? Duke said that was a myth used to get us to take training seriously!” Espresso pressed herself against Arnie’s cell, as did Decaf, who was too stunned to speak.

“Duke was following orders and pretending that he didn’t exist. If you wanted the truth, you should’ve asked Prince. Hell knows he hasn’t forgotten.” Baron picked at his nails, remembering the nights he’d find Prince at the top of their bunk bed, musing over his secret photo album.

“What’s his name? Where was he? How come we weren’t allowed to know about him?” Espresso bombarded Baron with questions.

“I’ll tell you later. It’s a long story.” Baron stretched and relaxed his hands behind his head.

“I’ll keep you guys close so you can have your little family reunion,” Sam interrupted by pulling the women by their cuffs, and locking them in separate cells, “But not too close.”

* * *

 

“So we can cross off all the ones named after types of coffee.” Sam told Natasha as they pulled up the women’s files, “Espresso, Latte, and Decaf.”

“Well Espresso and Latte shouldn’t be too hard to remember, since their hair matches the colors of the drinks.” Natasha said in her deadpan low voice.

“Isn’t Cap coming to take a look at them himself?” Sam asked.

Natasha shook her head and bit her lips uncomfortably, “On his own time. He’s taking this pretty hard. You should’ve seen him when we had to put Arnie in a cell. His hands were practically glued to the kid’s shoulders.”

“But he doesn’t resent any of them, then? Like, at all?” Sam asked seriously, since it was important for him to know if things were getting too heavy for Bucky. He may not have known him very long, but he knew that everyone had a breaking point, and if he was truly going to be Captain America’s partner, he had to know what Bucky’s was.

“James is a good man, most of the time. He believes in giving second chances if they deserve them” Natasha went back to reading the Coffee Pot’s records. Sam didn’t know about Bucky’s confrontation with her earlier, and she didn’t feel like now was the time to tell him either. He’d apologized since then and Natasha politely warned that now that she knew what he was capable of, he wouldn’t get close to doing that again.

Suddenly, she swore she must have been mistaken in reading two little words in the Coffee Pot’s files. She reread it three more times to show herself that she had seen it correctly.

_Red Room._

It couldn’t have been the same place, could it? As she read more into that file, she saw the right location and a reasonable year to boot. It didn’t say they were graduates, but the report said that they had been there for a day. One day? The Red Room was one of the KGB’s most heavily guarded secrets. Only those allowed to know about it knew about it, and that only included the instructors, the students, and the sponsoring military officials. Everyone else didn’t usually leave alive.

Natasha had to look into this herself, without Cap or anyone else. Once Sam left to continue his search, she went to the floor where they were keeping their treasured guests. As she walked in, the Coffee Pot greeted her kindly.

“Oh, it’s Ms. Rushman, right? Natalie Rushman? Stark’s personal assistant?” Decaf asked.

“Or is it Natalia Romanoff? The Black Widow?” Latte asked with a more devious smile.

“What were you three doing at the Red Room?” Natasha crossed her arms and arched her eyebrows.

“Ugh, that was such a long time ago, I barely even remember.” Espresso lay on her bed, playing with her curls.

“We were there the same reason as you, Ms. Romanoff, to learn how to fight.” Latte explained.

“You’re not graduates, or even registered students. How did you get there?” Natasha remained firm, trying to find the lies.

“Well we weren’t actual students, of course. We just sort of tagged along when Mama was invited to teach there.” Latte shrugged.

“Funny. I was there during that time, and not one of my instructors had children. It wasn’t allowed.” Natasha really thought she was catching their bluff, but one memory in her mind was breaking through that was starting to make sense the more they talked.

“She wasn’t a regular instructor. They just brought her in as a guest instructor every few years or so. They didn’t call her Mother Winter there, I think she was called…Madame W?” Decaf added.

That name. Of course. It was all coming back to her now. She did remember Madame W. She was there for that “special lesson.” The Red Room didn’t bring in outsiders very often, but when they did, it was women who were the best of the best of whatever lesson they were learning that day. She remembered the tall woman with the darkest circles under her blue eyes, and the black mask hiding her nose and everything under that. She didn’t realize it at the time, but she had met not only all these women before, but Stephanie Barnes as well.


	20. Right Here, Waiting For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Werner Reinhardt gets out of prison, discovering that the fruits of his labor have not spoiled while he was gone.

_1989_

“I know you’re nervous, too.” Scorpio fixed the cufflinks on his coat.

“I’m never nervous.” Libra straightened the lapels on her crimson blazer before grabbing a hold of the wheelchair going with them. They had approximately 30 seconds until the elevator reached the pit of the Rat, the seconds ticking like their synchronized heartbeats. Scorpio pulled out a pair of black round spectacles and slipped them on his face.

“Really? You’re going to hurt your eyes like that.” Libra scoffed.

“They’re not prescription, of course.” Scorpio straightened his tie.

“You’re just desperate for those brownie points, aren’t you?” Libra sighed and pushed her sleek platinum hair behind her shoulders.

“First impressions last forever. I got you a pair, too, if you want them.” Scorpio patted his pocket.

“That’s sweet, but no thank you.” Libra’s heels clacked against the concrete floor of the prison as she power-walked out of the elevator, rolling the wheelchair in front of her. Down the hall and two right turns, and they would finally see him in person.

“What if he doesn’t recognize us?” Libra asked as calmly as she could.

“I thought you said you’re never nervous.”

“I’m not. I’m curious.”

“I bet you three milk cartons that he will.”

The twins went silent as they turned the last corner, and they simultaneously stopped right before they reached his cell. Libra pressed her back against the brick wall, breathing deeply to prevent her eyes from going red and shedding tears, and Scorpio checked his faux glasses for spots and wiped them.

Hydra babies enjoyed bragging about their fathers more than being around them. There was always a sense of distance, like idolizing a mythical hero. Sure, they were inspiring and awesome from afar, but then they would be terrifying and cruel in person. The Purebloods were the most fortunate ones. Their father died shortly after they were born, but they inherited the most promising legacy of them all. Others only got to see their father when it was convenient for the man to show up, and by convenient, that usually meant when there was a mission in store for them for the father’s benefit.

Libra and Scorpio had only seen their father in pictures, and got the vaguest sense of a personality from the notes in his research. They knew he was a fanatical man who shared the Red Skull’s vision of capturing the power of the gods, sacrificing anyone and anything to get it. Meeting him in person could be a dream come true or a nightmare. Libra was more afraid for obvious reasons. How would he treat a daughter? Would he use her like a hollow doll, as others did? Or would he see her, prefer her even, as a worthy heir?

After one more deep breath, Scorpio grabbed a hold of Libra’s arms and pulled both of them forward, in front of the cell door. The tall man inside stood facing the window, letting the sun hit his face. Their first look at their father in their entire lives, and it was the back of his head, which was completely white, like a polar bear.

“Werner Reinhardt.” Scorpio called out loudly, not sure how much of the old man’s hearing remained, “Your lucky day.”

Reinhardt turned around right as Libra used her S.H.I.E.L.D security clearance card to open the cell door. The old man had to squint a little to focus on the tall, pale, sharply dressed pair of yuppies. The young man was like a ghost from the past, a young version of himself, with smooth cheeks and piercing blue eyes. The woman in the red and black power suit looked like an ice queen, with red lips, the same blue eyes, and a face as soft as…

“My children…” Reinhardt croaked as he held out his crooked hands and slowly crept over to them, grasping both of them by the cheek, “…we finally meet.”

“See Libra? I told you he’d recognize us.” Scorpio smiled, “Hail Hydra, father.”

“You…look just like your mother. Such beauty…” Reinhardt focused on Libra for a minute, squeezing her face and rubbing his thumb across her lips, which left her frozen in fear, “But how are you so young? It’s been over forty years…”

“We don’t age like normal people, father. After the first twenty years, it’s like no time passes at all.” Scorpio explained as he pulled the wheelchair out of the hallway and eased their elderly father into it.

“After all these years,” Reinhardt whispered, “why now?”

“The woman you caged up,” Libra finally broke out of her fear and remembered their mission, “The Chinese one. We found her.”

“She’s still alive? Is it truly her?” Reinhardt asked, anxious to pick up where he left off.

“We’re not the only ones who haven’t aged.” Scorpio grabbed the handles tightly, “Come see for yourself."

From the prison, they took a SHIELD jet to his old laboratory in Austria, with everything preserved, from the operating table, to the isolation ward; even the grass on the lawn was well-kept.

“So much lost time wondering what became of my legacy,” Reinhardt scratchy voice mused and he glanced to his twins, “and it was all here, waiting for my return.”

“It’s been under S.H.I.E.L.D protection since the war,” Scorpio stated, “just like us. As far as S.H.I.E.L.D knows, we are Agents Spencer and Leslie Whitehall, born 1965, and 1985 graduates of the Academy. It’s a rotation thing, we’ll retire in decade or two. Still, while we have the privileges…let’s get to work.” He motioned for Libra to bring in the subjects. Libra left and shortly returned with a group of scared and shuffling Chinese people who kept quiet and kept their gaze away.

“Who are these people?” Reinhardt asked.

“We grabbed all the elders from the village, and couldn’t believe what we found.” Libra said.

Reinhardt peered at the group with curious eyes, rising from his wheelchair and slowly stepping towards them, making them back away in fright. His shaky arthritic hand shooed away the older ones he had no use of, until he recognized the younger-looking woman in the back, trying to hide her face in her hair.

“Erstaunlich…” Reinhardt whispered as he approached her, “I grew old living no life. She lives a full one and doesn’t age a day.”

“She’s not a super soldier like us. How did she do it?” Scorpio stood next to his father.

“I don’t know,” the envious old man breathing got wild and he smiled with such excitement, “but we’ll learn, as a family. Discovery requires experimentation.”

Libra slyly smiled, finally seeing the ambitious mad doctor she imagined all her life, spouting the quote she read over and over again in his research.

The twins grabbed the woman by the arms so tightly it was difficult for her to struggle back.

“I think it’s time we found out exactly what makes you so special.” Reinhardt locked eyes with her, admiring her like pet. The woman screamed as the twins carried her out of the room effortlessly, demonstrating their super strength.

The Zodiac twins had brought their younger brother Zeus on for the procedure, since he discovered his niche for surgery during the Vietnam War and had only improved his skills since then. The grueling process took dozens of hours, sedating the woman, slicing her open, pulling her organs out one by one, and placing them all in fluids that would keep them functioning, and that was only half the job. Next, they had to put Reinhardt under, and replace all of his organs with the immortal woman’s.

Libra stood behind the viewing glass clawing her nails into her elbows, wondering if one day this would be her own fate when the day came that her father was “curious” about her. She couldn’t bear to imagine what he would do to her mother, who had also barely aged since Libra’s childhood, with the only wrinkles on her face growing under her eyes in exhaustion. But no, Hydra would never allow him to cut open the goose that lay the golden eggs.

The Zodiac twins and their Olympian brother waited, and stared at Reinhardt’s body on the table. If it worked, Hydra would have one of its’ old heads back. If it failed, the Zodiacs would rejoin the “no father” clique amongst the Winter Soldiers. Several hours passed, but finally, the conversion was complete, and Reinhardt’s skin returned to the elasticity of youth, with all the wrinkles and liver spots disappearing. His hair also returned to his original platinum shade of blonde, matching Libra’s exactly. When he awoke, his children were waiting for him with a new change of clothes from Scorpio’s closet. He dressed himself up nicely and replaced his glasses back on his face.

“My children, let’s go pick up some nice flowers. I want to pay your mother a visit.”


	21. The Shakespeare Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mother Winter is used as a bargaining chip as Daniel Whitehall makes a deal with Dr. Ashley Kafka, the head of the Ravencroft Institute, leading to the first "Millennial" litter. Also, Libra feels the pressure as her brother and father cross her boundaries.

_1995_

The embroidered silk table runner was pressed flat on the cherrywood dining table. The vintage plates and glasses that Reinhardt owned since the 40’s were taken out of the armoire and set delicately for five places.

“Are these cufflinks a bit much?” Scorpio asked his father, showing off the white gold Hydra insignia on each sleeve of his grey suit.

“It hardly matters. Dr. Kafka is one of us.” Reinhardt, or now Daniel Whitehall, annunciated his words, still trying to perfect the standard American accent.

“Dad.” Libra stiffly walked in holding an empty pill container, “Mom’s birth control is gone.”

“Yes it is.” Whitehall didn’t want her to think she deserved an explanation, but he loved to hear himself talk.

He looked into the mirror of his vanity to adjust his tie, which led to Scorpio trying to squeeze in some space for himself. From the reflection he could see Libra as a tiny figure in the doorway, insignificant and silent as she squeezed the container until it broke between her fingers.

“Now that the Cold War is over, your mother has too much free time on her hands.” Whitehall explained.

“With over twenty children?” Libra squinted.

“Most of whom are adults. The youngest are twelve now, correct?”

“Correct.” Libra murmured.

“So, they’re not babies. Secretary Pierce agrees with me that if Mommy Dearest doesn’t have little ones to occupy her, it won’t be good for her mood.” Whitehall spritzed himself with cologne.

“Why don’t you give her more children, father?” Scorpio suggested, already entertaining the idea.

“Oh, I’ve had my fun. The novelty wears off after a while. Besides…” Whitehall patted Scorpio on the back, “I got it right the first time.”

Libra returned to prepping her mother for another dinner date where she would sit quietly and politely at the table, daintily picking at her food, letting the guest at the end of the table project whatever fantasy he favored onto her. She lined her lips so gently in a shade of champagne that would highlight the glossy pink lipstick. For Libra, numbers and dates meant nothing to her. She’d rather mark the passage of time with the changes in fashion and style. At least that gave her something to look forward to.

When she looked for her own pills, she found the container in the trash, with the remaining little white pills already punched out and probably disposed of. But why? Did her father intend for her to get pregnant as well? He never mentioned it. Maybe this was his way of bringing it up. It had been discussed in the past that Winter Soldiers should continue their super soldier legacy, but most commanders came to the same conclusion. It would be too much of a distraction for them. Let them be soldiers, and keep their mother as the pureblooded breeder. Of course, that was before her father came back. As her handler, he could do whatever he wished with her.

Libra threw the empty case back into the trash, slowly breathing to counter her rapidly beating heart. Mother Winter turned her head when she heard the sound of her daughter in distress. She tilted her head and gave her that warm inviting gaze with her eyes, even as her lips remained still. Libra ran into her mother’s arms, resting her head on her chest and wrapping around her shoulders tightly, letting her whole body go limp into hers.

“Mama...” Libra’s voice went as soft and high as an infant’s as she kissed her mother’s mouth repeatedly.

“You are turning in your own men?” Kafka asked from his end of the table, with Mother Winter on one side of him and Libra on the other.

“Turning them into you, if we can make an arrangement.” Whitehall pressed his wine glass to his lips, “They’ve already been convicted, but the sentencing is still underway. They have already been declared criminally insane.”

“So you want the Ravencroft Institute to keep a hold of them? And then release them on ‘good’ behavior?” Kafka had a sense of where this was going.

“Not free them entirely, just keep them until I have use for them. When something comes up, I’ll let you know, and I promise to return them to you.” White explained.

Kafka kept a still face to hide his acceptance of the plan. It would take little effort to meet these demands, and he was willing to cooperate, but the two beautiful blonde ladies at his side told him that Whitehall was willing to offer up so much more to make this deal go through.

“Even Blockbuster charges rental fees.” Kafka slyly smiled.

“You will be paid your rental fee, plus we’ll cover living expenses while they are under your care.” Whitehall leaned forward.

“Oh, that I would have required anyhow,” Kafka turned his gaze to the women next to him, his eyes running back and forth between the two. Libra looked down, taking a hot sip from the vegetable-filled broth of her _Suan La Tang_. Scorpio ate from his bowl enthusiastically, as if he’d never tried it before, but she knew the kiss-ass was just as sick of it as she was, having been saturated with her father’s authentic Chinese cravings for years. Their mother, however, was savoring every chew of the mushroom and scallions, taking big spoonfuls, and deeply inhaling the flavorful steam. She was a far more cooperative asset with the promise of food that actually had flavor and texture.

Libra stared down at her bowl and patted her glossed lips with her napkin, too nervous to look up and potentially find their guest looking at her, choosing her.

“I’m sure the Ravencroft Institute could arrange something for your fallen men,” Dr. Kafka unconsciously licked his lips, “But first, you have to arrange something for me.”

Libra buckled her knees together, clenching every muscle in her lower half.

“Anything for a friend.”

“I’d like a private date with one of your assets.”

Whitehall slurped his soup, “Just one? To be honest, I’d let you take two if you wanted.”

Libra squeezed her spoon and tasted blood on her bitten tongue. _Father, what have I done to offend you?_

“You’re very generous, Whitehall, but I only have eyes for this one here.” Kafka took his finger and stroked the chin of Mother Winter, who was too focused on the rare sensation of the sweet taste of pork to acknowledge the humdrum touch of skin that she’d become accustomed to.

Libra heaved silently, almost tearing up in relief. Just when she thought she could relax, her brother ruined the moment for her.

“Good, because Libra is a lesbian.” Scorpio beamed with a shit-eating grin, making everyone at the table go silent before Kafka and Whitehall started laughing heartily, leaving Libra’s soul to die ten times over, but not without taking her brother’s soul as well with an icy glare.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Whitehall gave a long stare with a dangerous smile at his daughter, who scrunched herself tighter in her seat, taking as little room as possible.

* * *

 

Dr. Kafka held his hand to take Mother Winter’s black-gloved hand as she stepped out of the limousine. She strutted quickly in her tall heels, holding her glittery clutch tightly.

“Slow down, my dear.” Dr. Kafka caught up to her and squeezed her arm, “This is a date. Not a mission. Just relax.”

She stopped at his command, facing him and slowing her breath. He gave her a quick smile, amused at her fighting back her lethal instincts. He was warned that if he wanted her to behave in public, he should keep her on soldier mode, and save whore mode for the hotel. Mother mode would get too anxious without children around for a long period of time, so it was not in his best interest.

When they entered the restaurant, she scanned the crowd, profiling everyone and everything. Even with no mission, she looked for potential threats as a force of habit. Last time she was in a restaurant as fancy as this one, she ended up crushing a man’s face against the toilet and flushing his teeth and eyeballs down the drain. It probably wouldn’t come to that, but just in case, she had knives strapped to her thighs. The waiter who pulled out her chair had to wait several seconds as she inspected it for traps before actually sitting down.

“You never take a day off, do you?” Kafka chuckled as he put his napkin in his lap, “I admire that.”

She kept her clutch in her lap, looking straight ahead across the table, without blinking or smiling. He glanced up from his menu to notice that she wasn’t looking at hers.

“Go on, order anything you wish.” He insisted. She looked down at the list of dishes, but wasn’t able to understand that she had a choice here. She just expected something to be brought to her, and then she would eat it without question.

“So what exactly are your duties as an Asset?” Kafka asked her, curious as to what she sounded like, since she hadn’t said a word during his meeting with Whitehall.

“I’m the mother, whore, and servant of Hydra.” She recited in scratchy voice, “I do as I’m told.”

“And the children-“

“They are everything to me.” She spouted as soon as they were brought up, like she always did.

When the waiter arrived, Kafka ordered himself the Filet Mignon. When he asked for Mother Winter’s order, she didn’t say anything, so Kafka just ordered another Filet Mignon for her. When the wine was served, she drank every drop.

“How long have you worked for Hydra?” He asked, trying to read her eyes, but only seeing a mysterious darkness to them.

“For as long as I can remember.” She answered honestly, since her conscious memory only went back a few days.

When the food was served, her eyes lit up to see that the meat wasn’t dry or tough. The circular cut was seasoned and pink when she cut into it. She quietly moaned as she savored each bite, letting the juices soak her tongue. Kafka smiled as he watched her enjoy herself. He ordered more wine for her, watching her take big gulps.

He was surprised to see her still walking straight and alert back to the limo even after several glasses of wine. He did like a woman who could hold her liquor. The ride to the hotel was silent, with her still holding onto her clutch for dear life.

“May I see what’s in your purse?” He asked, but to his surprise, she refused, holding it tighter to her.

Their suite was on one of the higher floors, which meant a long ride on the elevator. As she faced the sliding metal doors, Kafka pulled on her chin and whispered a few sweet words in her ear. A mellowing vibe traveled down her whole body as her whore mode was activated. When he drew his lips near hers, she met them with a sultry kiss. When the elevator doors opened, her legs were already wrapped around his waist, with her kissing him as he held her up and walked over to their room. He struggled to keep her weight in one arm as he pulled out his key to open the door.

Once he was close enough, he threw her onto the bed, where she pulled him down with her for another kiss. He threw off his jacket and pulled off his silk tie, wrapping it around her wrists to restrain her wandering hands. He reached behind her, sliding his hand down the length of her back until he found her zipper, pulling it until he could swiftly pull her dress off and lay it off to the side, revealing her red satin lingerie. She wriggled herself on the soft sheets, swinging her hips from side to side.

“You saucy minx.” He slyly smiled and unbuttoned his own shirt in a rush. She thrust herself up at him, grinding against him, her cherry red lips puckering. He unbutton his pants and threw those off as well, attacking her with biting kiss on her shoulder. He pulled her closer to him, unhooking her bra and sliding it down so he could kiss her soft breasts.

He grew hard as her pelvis grinded against his. She threw her tied hands around his neck, leaning back as she felt his body press on hers further. Her skin was hot and sensitive, with each touch making her groan in a cross of pain and bliss. It was always enough to make her want more, but never enough to satisfy. Even as Kafka pushed himself inside her wetness, pressing her against the bed in a slow rhythm, she could feel herself just missing something she didn’t know how to describe. He harshly squeezed her arms, keeping them above her head, thrusting and taking in the strong scent of her perfume on her soft skin. He rubbed his face in her warm chest, feeling the smooth skin of her arms.

He turned her over, grabbing her hair and squeezing her chest as he thrust in her from behind. Her stomach and large breasts drooped down below her, jiggling as he moved in her. When he sat down, she bounced on him, softly moaning each time she came down. He watched her jerk around, sweating and whimpering like there was a fire under her skin, destroying her from the inside. He squeezed her hips, finishing in her, as a wave of comfort washed over him. He got out of bed to get them a couple glasses of the complimentary champagne, giving her one last drink before he went to sleep with his arm wrapped around her.

When she woke up the next morning, he had already left, his clothes gone, and her dress on a hanger in the closet. She pulled herself up, stretching and rubbing her eyes. The clock said 10:30a.m, so he must’ve already gone back to work. Now all she had to do was wait. Someone usually picked her up from these things, whether it was her handler or a random goon. Soon, there was a knock at the door, which she opened without thinking to cover herself. Luckily, it was two of her children, Princess and Wagner, coming in with a briefcase and case file.

“Good news, Mama. There’s a mission for you. They want you in Bosnia.” Princess held the case file, uttering the words that straightened her back and returned her to soldier mode.

Wagner opened the briefcase, pulling out her standard uniform and combat boots, “Get dressed. The car outside will take you where you need to go.”

Mother Winter slipped back into her fighting gear, zipping up the catsuit and buckling her silver belt with the red star. She walked over to her clutch resting on the bedside table and opened it, pulling out the fully loaded revolver and placing in its proper holster.

“Good luck, Mama.” Princess kissed her on the cheek, giving her a quick hug before Mother Winter marched out of the hotel with purpose.

“So what time does housekeeping show up at these places?” Wagner asked Princess as they watched their mother leave on her mission.

“I think noon.” Princess answered with a smile, pulling her long wavy brown hair over to one shoulder.

“So that means we have some time.” Wagner pulled her waist to his, making her giggle.

“But what if our handlers call?” She pouted with her thick pink lips.

“Then we’ll have to answer, but until they do…we’re free to do as we please.” Wagner held her face gently rubbing his thumbs on her round cheeks. She kissed him deeply, keeping a hold on his as he picked her up bridal style and carried her to the bed.

* * *

 

Since the deal had gone through, dozens upon dozens of Hydra’s most lethal criminals had taken refuge in the Ravencroft Institute, including Mother Winter. Her files just said she was a Communist War criminal with a list of falsified disorders that were just there to scare people away from her cell. In truth, she was there for the last third of pregnancy, so she could give birth in secret in a place where the father could attend.

After several painful hours, she gave birth to four babies, the oldest and the strongest being a girl. She was followed by two boys with striking brown eyes like their father, a rarity amongst Hydra babies. Finally, the little runt arrived, screaming and pale. Dr. Kafka decided to name them after classic Shakespeare characters. The two brown-eyed boys being named for the most famous protagonists: Hamlet and Macbeth. The runt was named Lear, and the daughter was named after his favorite female character, Desdemona.

Like most of the fathers of the Winter Soldiers, Kafka made little time for them. He had plenty of work to be done at the institute, all of which took priority over screaming infants. Mother Winter, however, was pleased to have little ones again, who would crawl on her while she was sleeping, and depend on her for everything. She was even allowed to read to them. Even if she couldn’t always pronounce the words in the stories for which these children were named, it still pleased them to sit in her lap and listen to her voice as she struggled to read Shakespearian classics to the “Shakespeare Company.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the profile for the Shakespeare Company:   
> https://www.dropbox.com/s/gkawai8irxca5w6/Shakespeare%20Litter.pptx?dl=0
> 
> Also, remember to check out the Ask Mother Winter tumblr at askmotherwinter.tumblr.com   
> Please send her questions, and check out some art of the Hydra babies while you're there!


	22. The Guest Instructor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into what business Mother Winter and her children had at the Red Room, and what lessons she taught a teenage Natasha.

_1997_

Princess brushed through Espresso’s thick hair, tightening it as much as she could and twisting it into a bun.

“Is this super secret Russian spy school in the place where you were born, Libra?” Decaf squeezed toes in her ballet shoes.

“No, I was born in Belarus. Although we did used to have a farm around there.” Libra smiled as she put pins in her little sister’s hair to restrain the stray strands.

“Yeah, one moment, we’re living in a castle, and then boom, relocated to empty fields of wheat and pig shit.” Duchess tugged on Latte’s hair, making the girl protest with a loud “Ow!”

“ _You_ lived in a castle. We lived in the dungeon.” Libra clarified.

“Still, it was disgusting.” Duchess gave her sister a very tight bun sitting on top of her head.

“It’s not like we lived there the whole time, we still went back to Germany now and then.” Princess explained to the Coffee Pot.

“Only when they needed Mama in Berlin, but most of the time, they needed her in Moscow or Siberia, or whatever.” Duchess put her brush down, “There, you’re ready.”

As soon as the three teenage girls were all dressed and groomed for “ballet recital,” their mother joined them, donning a black leotard that failed to hide all the fat in her hips and chest that made her obviously too big to be a performing ballerina. She still wore her mask over her mouth, however, which made her stick out even more. Of course, it’s not like she was going to the Red Room to teach the girls to dance.

* * *

 

The eighteen month old auburn-haired baby girl sucking on a Hydra-logoed pacifier was obviously the most distracting part of the lesson, especially since she was strapped to “Madame W’s” chest. This guest instructor was brought in because she was the best at her craft, which confused the girls in the Red Room because she was also a mother.

“Stance wide, both hands if you can, arms out.” She demonstrated how to shoot, making sure that little Desdemona had ear plugs first.

The Coffee Pot assisted her in her lesson of how to evade gunfire. She fired in their direction and the girls flipped out of the way every time. She also taught them how to hide in plain sight, and how to disassemble and reassemble weapons in record time.

“Any questions?” She asked towards the end of the lesson. One cherry-red haired girl about the same age as the Coffee Pot raised her hand, and Madame W nodded in her direction.

“Do the children ever distract you from the mission?” She asked with a furrowed brow.

“Protecting the children is my mission.” Madame W asserted without blinking.

“Protecting Mama is our mission.” The Coffee Pot said in unison, as a force of habit.

Suddenly, little Desdemona started getting fussy, jumping in her carrier and whining as she bit her fingers. Madame W dismissed the class, and headed towards the bathroom to change her baby’s diaper. All the girls noticed the change in her demeanor the very moment the baby started crying. She went from totally alert and focused to soft and in a haze.

Most of the older girls whose graduation was upon them were confused and conflicted. They knew that in order to become a Black Widow, they would have to undergo a total hysterectomy. They were taught that to be the best, they could not distract themselves with children, and yet here was this mother who was skilled enough to be accepted as a guest instructor. Something wasn’t adding up.

After Madame W left the bathroom and calmed the baby down with a few kisses on her cheeks, she felt a sudden grip on her arm stop her in her tracks.

“Did the lesson go well?” A voice that she was ordered to obey caught her attention. She turned and saw Dr. Kafka smiling at her, squeezing her arm tighter. She nodded.

“Good, I couldn’t wait much longer with the rest of the litter.” Dr. Kafka gestured to the two sets of twin strollers behind him, occupied by her infant sons, waiting to get their sister back. He pulled Desdemona out of the carrier on Steph’s chest and put her next to Lear in the stroller. Then, he unbuckled the carrier and pulled it off of Steph, leering at how the form-fitting leotard clung to her curves.

Mother Winter tried to go over to the rest of her children so she could hold them, but Kafka blocked her way and held her close to him.

“You look good like this. You should wear this more often.” He squeezed her wrists as he forced a kiss on her.

“They…they need me.” She protested, watching one of them reach out to her with grabbing hands.

“But I need you, too.” He whispered in her ear hungrily, pushing her to walk backwards into the wall. He groped her chest through the thin fabric, covering her mouth to silence her whimpers as he moved his hand lower.

“I can’t wait to have you all to myself again.” He growled in her ear.

The girls whom she had just been teaching saw the scene as they walked past the intersecting hallway on their way to lunch. Madame B, their usual instructor, told them to ignore it and keep moving.

“That is the price of motherhood, girls. You can still fight, but you will never again have freedom over yourself. You will always belong to someone else.”


	23. Scouting for Talent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shakespeare Company have been very busy teenagers over the past few years. Some carrying out Hydra's work, and others with their own plans on the sides. Their presence in Midtown Science High School lets Hydra's tentacles stretch into Peter Parker's world.

_2010_

Desdemona didn’t have an alias when she enrolled in Midtown Science High School, no one in the Shakespeare Company did. They didn’t even hide who their father was, at least legally. As far as the state was concerned, Dr. Kafka adopted the four “orphans” from his home country, and their records had been destroyed in a hospital fire.

“This is pointless. We already have our PhDs. Why don’t we skip this and go to Oscorp instead?” Mona grumbled in the back of her father’s limousine.

“Your mission is to scout for potential recruits. Inside that school is a plethora of bright and talented young men and women with absolutely no plans for the future. They are a naive and insecure lot, and if you prey on those insecurities, you can lead them our way into Hydra’s larger plan.” Kafka explained.

Mona thrust her jaw forward, her only allowed form of protest. Macbeth and Hamlet looked out the window and saw all the potential customers for their side project. Lear zipped up his hoodie, ready to drawn into himself before he even went out there. The group of freshmen stepped out of the limo and walked side-by-side onto the crowded campus. Mona walked with a superior stride, turning her nose up at no one in particular. Mac and Hammie put their arms on each other’s shoulders, and Lear just kept his head down.

Sitting at desks all day instead of getting actual work done at Hydra’s laboratories or the Ravencroft Institute made all of them a little antsy, and they went through about three milk pouches each to get through the day. Lab was a little bit better since they actually got to do something, even if it was a fucking titration. But it kept Mona from going insane, which she swore she would never ever do.

“Just hold tight and let me take of this.” Mona poured the compound into the flask, dismissing her lab partner, Gwen.

“Oh, you need to pour it on a stirring rod to guide the flow.” Gwen said.

“I got this, don’t worry.” Mona poured quickly without spilling a drop. She also set up the apparatus herself, leaving Gwen only to stir.

“You know, you don’t have to do everything to get participation credit.” Gwen sounded a little frustrated.

“Don’t worry, I’ll write in the lab report that you did your fair share.” Mona carefully adjusted the knob on the pipe, never losing her focus.

Meanwhile, at the other table, Lear let Peter Parker do the lab for him. After all, how was he supposed to tell how smart the kid was until he watched him work? It took a few tries, but pretty soon Peter got the hang of it. Although Lear did notice that Peter was distracted by the girls at the other table.

“So... is she your real sister?” Peter asked in a mumble.

“Huh?” Lear was stunned by the question since it was only the first day, and for a moment he feared that this guy was already suspicious.

“Like, I mean, you guys were adopted by the same man, but like, do you have the same birth parents and stuff?” Peter asked.

“Mona is my twin sister, and Mac and Hammie were twin brothers from another city. Dad was doing some study on the difference between male-female and male-male twins, and he just fell in love with us and took us in.” Lear recited the planned backstory from memory.

“Oh…” Peter honestly didn’t know where to take this conversation now. He really didn’t expect to get this far, “So…is she…with someone?”

Lear perked his eyebrows up, “Nope.”

He could’ve told him how she’d probably dice him with sharp wires if he approached her too suddenly, but he’d rather stand back and observe the mess. Mac and Hammie finished their lab early and secretly weighed small plastic bags of their homegrown marijuana. If being in school meant less time to ship out their product to their customers, then they’d have to make due with whatever was here.

History, however, was much less tedious. Sure, they wouldn’t believe a word of it, but at least it was entertaining to hear sugarcoated bedtime versions of events that their older siblings could explain from experience. Their textbook had one picture of Captain America, in a small green box outside of the main paragraphs with two or three lines of text about her service as a mascot and a soldier. They treated her efforts to the war as more of a fun fact than an object of study.

Of course, the tutors of Hydra taught them better. Captain America was no simple soldier; she was one of the biggest threats Hydra had ever known. Like a tenacious supervirus, she would tear through all their plans with a small team and her iconic shield, until the day Hydra finally killed her some time before any of the children of Hydra were born. She had a husband who tried to follow in her footsteps, but he failed miserably. It was only when Captain America was truly gone that Mother Winter could have her children in peace.

“Aw, they only have a small picture of her in this book…” Peter noted, scooching his desk closer to Mona’s, “…and it’s one of her bond advertisements. It’s not one of her on the battlefield.”

Mona ignored him, but he cleared his throat and continuing talking, “I saw this one with Captain America on top of a tank that was the size of a _building_.”

“It was staged.” Mona shot him down, keeping focus on her notes.

“Well…I’m sure it would still make her look cooler than this…I mean she looks greatly already, but-“

“Put it back in your pants and put your desk back where it was.” She shooed him off with a swift wave of her hand.

“Right…sorry…” Peter’s cheeks went red as he slid his desk back with a loud screech.

* * *

 

_2012_

“Alright, boys. I need you to understand that what we’re dealing with here is a federal crime punishable by at least 30 years in prison. Whoever gave you this stuff is not your friend, so don’t feel like you have to protect them.” The principal made a steeple with his hands and tapped them firmly on his desk, “So I’m going to ask you again, and I want the truth this time. Who gave you these drugs?”

“No one. We made them.” Hamlet answered with a straight face, while Macbeth just straightened the pencils on the desk into an even line.

The principal sighed heavily, “I know you didn’t. You know how I know? The board had this stuff tested, and these pills and this marijuana are more potent than anything we’ve confiscated in the history of the school. There is no way two high school boys, not even honor roll students, could invent this stuff themselves.”

“I believe you. You look like the type who did his fair share of experimenting back in the day.” Hamlet chuckled lowly to himself, making Macbeth do a wheezing laugh.

The principal huffed and stood firmly, arching himself over his desk, “Okay, you’ve had your fun. Now I’m going to give you one last chance to tell us who gave you this stuff. You’re already in huge trouble, but if you cooperate, you can walk away with a slap on the wrist; if you don’t, immediate expulsion, and probably prison.”

Macbeth and Hamlet looked at each other and gestured a conversation because Macbeth took a deep breath and sighed, “Okay, you see, sir…this pot was genetically modified and grown in our backyard, but the original seeds are from Afghanistan.”

“And how did you get the seeds?”

“A guy named Yusef.”

“And how did you meet this Yusef?”

“Well, when we were 13 years old, we had to track him through the Sahara desert to steal his blue prints for a weapon of mass destruction more powerful than the atom bomb. He was willing to trade us once we held his beautiful wife Kadijah hostage, but it turned out to be a shitty design that didn’t even work, so we blew up the both of them in their own house and took his stash, and that’s how we got the seeds.” Hamlet explained.

“If you don’t believe us, ask Iron Man. I think he showed up just in time for the clean up.” Macbeth nodded.

“Out of my office. Now. Don’t ever come back to this school.” The principal pressed his arm against the window. The boys shrugged and did as he said, throwing their backpacks over their shoulders and exiting the room.

As soon as they stepped out, a rush of students ran by screaming in terror, and Mona and Lear passed by just in time to grab them by the arms and pull them into the rush.

“What happened?!” Mac and Hammie asked in unison.

“Dr. Connors had too much fun with his grant money, and now there’s a giant lizard man tearing up the school!” Lear explained.

“Where the hell were you?!” Mona asked as she led them away from the herd and isolated them in an already destroyed part of the school.

“Getting expelled, so do we have orders?” Hammie asked.

Mona crossed her arms, “We were told to stand down. This isn’t Hydra’s mistake, so it’s not our business.”

“Aw, darn, and I thought we’d actually get to wear these today.” Mac pulled his green and gold training uniform out of his backpack.

“Well don’t wave that thing around now!” Mona snapped.

“What? If anyone asks, we can say they’re our ice skating costumes.” Hammie shrugged.

Suddenly, all of their phones went off with an urgent text message that made all of their faces go pale. They were to head back to headquarters immediately. S.H.I.E.L.D had just released an announcement to all their staff that the second Captain America, Bucky Barnes, was alive and ready for duty.

* * *

 

_2014_

Mona lay a single light pink rose on Gwen Stacy’s grave.

“Such a shame. You would’ve made a wonderful agent for Hydra. Our whole world was waiting for you in London.” She frowned and tucked one of her auburn tendrils behind her ear.

“So are we still considering Parker, or no?” Lear spoke quietly, with his shoulder pressed against hers.

“He’s on the table, but it’s up to the commanders now. We just have to be sneakier about it, now that everyone knows we exist.” Mona answered.

“You know, maybe if you had gone out with him like father told you to, he’d be on our side already.” Macbeth added.

“I am not Mother!” She abruptly shrieked, stunning all of her brothers. Her jaw tightened and her eyes had even started to water, but she immediately returned to her calmer tone, “Besides, Parker lost all interest in me once I told him where to stick it.”

“Mona…” Lear spoke with deep concern in his voice, “The commanders went easy on you for that, but you can’t keep defying orders. You know what they’ll do to you, to all of us.”

Mona let herself think over a deep breath, but couldn’t find anything to respond with. So she just turned to head back to the car, where several Hydra goons had been supervising them.

“At least now that our covers’ blown, we can work full-time in the labs now.” Lear said.

“Hammie and I were there earlier. We heard one of girls who was going to be in Grant’s litter has decided to defect to Hydra.” Macbeth added.

“Which one, Skye or Simmons?” Lear asked.

“Simmons.” Hammie answered.

“Huh,” Mona scoffed, “I guess the drops of Mother’s milk in her morning tea worked after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, what's that? Another crossover? And more plot details? 
> 
> Yes, I know that the MCU is going to do their own thing with Spider-Man that will probably replace fans' ideas of using the events from Sony's Spider-man movies, but since we know nothing about how that's going to go, and I planned this story ahead of time, I'm using the Amazing Spider-Man continuity, if you didn't already notice. 
> 
> I'm sure this chapter left you with a lot of questions, which is wonderful, because you can go ask those questions at the ask tumblr for this story:  
> askmotherwinter.tumblr.com 
> 
> Stephanie/Mother Winter will try to answer your questions to the best of her ability, and if you're lucky, one of the Hydra babies may just help her out. 
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments!


	24. Garrett's Litter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Garrett is the next Hydra leader given the offer to father his own litter of Hydra agents, however, he decides to go with a different plan.

_1999_

“Tell Agent Garrett I’m ready for him.” Pierce ordered his litter, “and go get your mother.”

Wagner took care of getting Garrett from the waiting room while Beethoven and Wolfe retrieved Mother Winter from the nursery. It took some work to wrestle little Mona and Lear off of her, but once the Coffee Litter took over babysitting, Mother Winter knew that they were in safe hands.

“Hey, Pierce! How long’s it been?” Garrett opened his arms out.

“Too long, John.” Pierce gave him a pat on the back with his hug and gave the “Hail Hydra” whisper as he pulled back.

“Aw, shucks, you don’t have to remind me.” Garrett smiled and tucked his hands into his pockets, “So are the rumors true? You’re really giving up your seat to Nick?”

“He earned it after rescuing my daughter. I owe him my life for that.” Pierce explained, and when Wolfe was positive that his old man wasn’t looking his way, he rolled his eyes in a complete circle.

“You’re a real sap, you know that?” Garrett patted his shoulder.

“It’s because I care so much that you have this, remember?” Pierce patted the metal through his clothes.

“Now I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” Garrett shrugged.

Pierce just chuckled and strolled over to his desk, “How’s Phil?”

“Ah, forget Phil. He’s never gonna come around. He’s still following Nick around like a puppy.”

“Well that’s too bad,” Pierce tapped on the files on his desk, “John, I know you’re not one for slogans and mottos, but just to entertain me, tell me what Hydra’s is.”

Garrett crossed his arms and took a moment, “Cut off one head, and two more take its place, right?”

“That’s correct. You see, I’m not the only ‘head’ of Hydra. There’s plenty all over the world. If they die, they need to ensure that there’s someone to carry on their legacy.” Pierce sat on top of his desk.

“So you’re looking for an heir.” Garrett caught on to what he was implying.

“Oh, I have my heirs.” Pierce’s face grew smug, and Garrett finally took a good look at the three boys in his service.

“Ah…” Garrett laughed, “Congratulations, they look just like you. Well, since I never see them in the Christmas cards, I guess it’s safe to assume you had a mistress.”

“I was just about to get to that,” Pierce continued, “Like I said, I have my heirs, but you don’t have yours.”

“Hold on, my biological clock ain’t ticking just yet.” Garrett shook his hand and his head, “It’s not too late for me to meet that special someone.”

“You’re right, you’ve got time, but why not right now?” Pierce smiled again and gestured to Beethoven, “Bring her in.”

With a stone heart, Beethoven silently sighed and took Mother Winter by the hand as he escorted her into the office. She stepped in loudly with heeled boots, and Garrett gave a wolf whistle at the tall blonde in a tight leather catsuit. She tucked her straightened blonde hair behind her ear, giving a quick glance to the stunned agent.

“Is this the legendary Mother Winter I’ve heard about? With the magic words?” Garrett licked his lips.

“In the flesh.” Pierce crossed over to her and grabbed a hold of her shoulder, “Glad you could make it. We have a mission for you.Thank you boys, you’re dismissed.”

The Composers silently filed into a line and walked out of the office, heading back to their private quarters.

“So this is Hydra’s most coveted asset,” Garrett approached her and looked her up and down, like he was inspecting a car, “She’s easy on the eyes, I’ll give her that. What her real name?”

“No one knows.” Pierce dismissed, for Garrett was that high in the ranks yet, “but no one cares, either. She does good work either way.”

“What are you hiding behind that mask, gorgeous?” Garrett whispered in his scratchy voice as he delicately caressed the bottom of her chin.

“A lifetime of secrets, but anyway, “ Pierce wrapped his arm around her shoulder, as she stood there, stoically, “she is our finest female agent, and her job is to provide more heads for Hydra.”

“So you’re saying you want me to fill her up with little baby Hydras.” Garrett cocked his head.

“They won’t be just any Hydra agents, they will be Winter Soldiers. They are the cream of the crop. That tech that’s keeping you alive wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Zola’s litter. They’ve started and ended wars. They’ve invented technology decades ahead of its time. The children of Hydra can do anything. You can have your own litter, and they will everything you ask them to do.” Pierce’s hand slid down to Mother Winter’s abdomen.

Garrett contemplated long and hard, tapping his mouth, “How long does it take them to grow up?”

“The same as normal children, but once they’re adults, they barely age at all.”

“So you still gotta raise them for 18 years?” Garrett asked.

“You? Oh, you don’t have to do a thing. You are under no obligation to be a parent; everything they need comes from her.” Pierce clarified.

“I don’t know, Alex, I tend to reap what I sow.” Garrett bit his thumbnail for a while, “Okay…hear me out. I got this idea. What if…I get some already grown kid and you make her think that he’s my kid with her?”

Pierce scrunched his face up, “I don’t know if I follow you, John.”

“Look, I can see in this little gal’s dead eyes that there is nothing going on her in that pretty head of hers. I know mind control when I see it. I also know, that I don’t want to wait 15 or 16 years to get some little tykes to do my bidding. Don’t get me wrong, I love the idea. I’m all for it. I’m just saying, I can do it a lot faster. I got a 16-year-old delinquent learning to survive in the woods as we speak. If he lives, he could be something. What if we just give him to her and she does whatever she does to make these agents so special?” Garrett explained.

“Well, I got to be honest, John, that’s not quite the answer I was expecting, but I suppose it could be done.” Pierce sighed, “She’s adopted before.”

“Trust me, Alex. I can train this kid to be just as good as one of her real ones. It’ll save you a bunch of money on diapers.” Garrett smiled slyly.

Since Mother Winter didn’t have a vivid memory of her history anyway, it didn’t take a lot of work on Tech’s part to make her believe that she had a son named Grant. If everyone around her insisted it to be true, she didn’t have it in her to argue otherwise. It’s not like she expected to remember the day of his birth anyway. As she had more and more children, it had grown harder to distinguish which crying infants she remembered holding. Once Tech was done with the prep work on her memories, Garrett was free to take her to pick up “their” son.

* * *

 

“It’s about a day’s drive from here. I made sure no one was around to bother him.” Garrett patted Mother Winter’s leg as she stared at the road ahead from shotgun. She looked at his hand for a second, but did nothing. They sat in silence for a good ten minutes.

“Not much of a talker, are ya?” Garrett asked, which didn’t even make her blink, “That’s a shame. I like to conversate when I drive.”

When they arrived in the right town late at night, Garrett rented a room at a motel with a flickering red neon light.

“We’ll get the boy in the morning; let him have one last night at summer camp.” Garrett led Mother Winter to their room. She lay down on the seedy crater-filled mattress without taking off any of her gear. While Garrett was showering, she kept her eyes wide open, trying not to fall asleep. No one had turned her off soldier mode all day. Even she felt drained after being alert for so long without rest, but she could not relax without an order or a change in mode.

When she felt a wet hand creep on her shoulder, she immediately jumped off, grabbed her guns and pointed them at figure.

“Woah, darlin’! Take it easy, it’s just me. Put the guns down.” Garrett held one hand out in defense and held his towel with the other.

She did as he said, and it wasn’t until she stood with her hands completely at her side that he remembered.

“Oh shit, I forgot to say the thing. Let’s see what was it…” Garrett paced around before snapping his fingers, “I got it. You deserve this.”

She instantly relaxed her whole body, which was so fatigued that she couldn’t stand anymore. She fell to her knees, but her racing heart made her skin heat up and left her short of breath.

“You’re not looking so well, Mama.” Garrett sat down on the bed and pulled her into his lap, “Why don’t you let Daddy take care of you?”

Just because he didn’t want to conceive with her did not mean he was passing up the chance to have her the way he wanted. He unzipped her and went straight for her breasts, motorboating them like he’d wanted to since he first laid eyes on her. He considered taking her mask off, but decided to leave it up to his imagination instead. He kissed up the length of her neck as he pulled her suit and gear off of her shoulders, making her moan as the heat continued to burn inside her.

He threw her to the side so that she landed chest first on the bed, with her suit still dangling off her legs. Before he pulled it off and left her barenaked, he grabbed a condom for himself out of his bag and slipped it on.

“Mm, well if that ain’t the finest ass I’ve ever seen.” He spanked her hard, making her lightly gasp. He joined her on the bed, pulling her hips up but pressing her head down, ready to take her like a dog. He ran his hand down her back which was already shiny with sweat. Her hair was spread all along the pillows. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he crouched over her and slipped himself in. She could feel the cold metal plate over his abdomen press into her back, and the temperature difference was enough to make her gasp. As much as the moldy scent in the sheets disgusted her, she endured and took every thrust, moaning as she hoped it would alleviate the uncontrollable need in her. She whimpered and squeezed the sheets, but she as feeling as much satisfaction as one does trying to scratch a terrible itch with thick gloves on. She groaned and bellowed, and even arched her back further to let him enter her more.

“Nn, they don’t call it whore mode for nothing, do they?” Garrett chuckled, pulling her hair to lift her face off the pillows and groping her chest as he pressed himself against her back, licking and biting up her shoulders. He buried his face in her neck and jerked in her a few more times as he felt the shivers of his climax. He pulled himself out and let go of her, making her fall like dead weight and bouncing on the squeaking mattress. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he tried to catch his breath, “You’re alright, hun. You’re alright.”

* * *

 

Garrett approached the campsite carefully, finding a recently put-out fire, a nice tent, and even some meat hanging on a tree. He was thoroughly impressed and figure that this arrangement would work out just fine. Suddenly, he felt the cold end of a hunting rifle pressing against his neck.

“Give me one reason not to blow your head off.” The terrified and furious teen’s voice cracked. Now Garrett knew that this arrangement would be perfect.

He held his arms up in defense, clutching onto a paper bag, “I brought tacos?”

Ward bit his lips and couldn’t hide the shakiness in his breath.

“I was half expecting you to be long gone.” Garrett admitted.

“I was half expecting you to never come back. You said a couple of months. It’s been six.” Ward kept a tight grip, with his finger approaching the trigger.

“Been out of the country on assignment,” Garrett explained, which was partly true. The other couple were waiting for Mother Winter to get out of mind rehab, “Seems like you and Buddy have been doing okay without me.”

“First few weeks were rough,” Ward finally lowered his gun, “ but then I realized my thinking was limited, so I started raiding cabins. Got some tools, the tent. Life got easier,” he took a walk around and gestured to an empty field, “Gonna build a cabin over there.”

“See, I told you you could do it,” Garrett smiled, pleased and feeling fatherly pride already, “Damn, son, you stepped up in a big way. Couldn’t feel prouder if you were my own,” He pulled his gun out of the paper bag and pointed at Ward. This adoption wasn’t final just yet.

“I lied about the tacos.” Garrett shrugged with his devious smile.

“What’s that for?” Ward stood back, afraid, but trying to keep his cool.

“Your next lesson.” Garrett said, letting the boy stay scared for a few seconds before shooting the pots and bottles for target practice. He handed the gun proudly to him, “Your turn. Stick with me, kid. In a few years, you’ll shoot better than that.”

As they headed back to the car, Ward asked, “Where are we headed now?”

“Back to my motel,” Garrett grabbed a small aerosol can out of the car, “Oh, and spray yourself with this. You probably smell like shit.”

Ward did so, expecting a deodorant smell, but instead it smelled like…milk?

“What is this stuff?” He wrinkled his nose at the spray drops on his clothes.

“Just a precaution,” Garrett was saving the main details for later, “to make sure she doesn’t reject you.”

“Who?” Ward wiped his clothes before getting into the car.

Garrett turned on the car and gave him a knowing smile, “Your new Mama.”


	25. Tried as Adults

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky tries to do what he can for the Winter Soldiers kept in the Avengers Tower, but others are more suspicious of what the Winter Soldiers can do, no matter how old they are.

The row of lights in the Avengers Tower’s prison floor turned on one by one at 8 a.m sharp, but the Winter Soldiers were up two hours before, by force of habit. They didn’t have to run their daily five miles, and they didn’t have target practice, but at least they had separate Smart TVs with Netflix, Hulu, Youtube, Pandora, and anything else they needed to distract themselves. Still, 200 push-ups every morning gave them a sense of accomplishment. Soon, they heard the usual squeaking wheels rolling down the hall.

“Morning, everyone.” Bucky arrived with the breakfast cart as he did every morning, “Now who asked for the ham and cheese melt?”

“Oh, me!” Decaf raised her hand gleefully. Her sisters glared at her from their neighboring cells, like she had betrayed them by just acknowledging him.

“Tsk, runt.” Latte turned back to watching her TV, leaning her head on her hand as she lay on her bed.

“So the poor girl wants to eat, relax about it.” Baron reprimanded her.

Bucky let them argue amongst themselves as he opened the door to their cells to leave their meal trays on the rounded edge plastic tables. There was an opening about the size of a mail slot in the doors, but he felt it was more humane to deliver anything to them in person. Besides, if they tried anything dangerous, the whole floor would go on lockdown. He didn’t like locking them up before determining whether they were threats on their own, but it was a compromise they had to make to allow them to stay there.

“Hey kid, you hungry?” Bucky smiled when he entered Arnie’s room with a big bowl full of brown sugar oatmeal with walnuts. The young man, who sat on his bed with his knees folded into his chest looked over each shoulder before scooching himself to the edge.

As Bucky placed the tray in his lap, Arnie looked down at and asked, “Only one spoon?”

Bucky swallowed painfully and it hurt him to go along with this, but he didn’t know what else to do for him. He retrieved two more spoons from the cart and handed them to him, “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

As Arnie put the two spoons on each side of him, he nodded to two people who weren’t there. It was hard to notice at first, since he didn’t really speak to the invisible people, but he made faces and gestures like he was carrying a nonverbal conversation with them. When Arnie started getting upset that Bucky would only bring meals for one, he knew something was off. As he watched the security footage of him, it was like watching a child communicate with spirits, and he had a good guess of who they were.

“See ya later, kid.” Bucky sadly smiled at the boy and patted his shoulder before giving the others their breakfast.

“He looks like you for a reason, you know.” Baron leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, “A convoluted one, but a reason no less.”

“Some kind of cloning experiment?” Bucky sighed as he plopped the tray of French toast on the bed.

“No, he was born the old fashioned way, just like all of us.” Baron snickered, “But as you’ve probably read, Hydra doesn’t have any records on the father. The commanders don’t know, but the children? We have a good guess. Mama didn’t get to choose her lovers, but our sister Hera said that one night right before she went to bed, she saw Mama pounce our babysitter. Now that I’ve seen you in person, I think I know why. He looked just like you. In her scrambled mind, she thought he was you. Looks like even then, she still loved you.”

Bucky’s face went still, but his eyes grew wet, “And what do you expect to get for telling me this?”

“I already told you,” Baron shrugged, “I’m just hoping to gain your trust a little at a time.”

Suddenly, there was an echo of children screaming and struggling that grew louder as they got closer.

“Oh no…” Espresso muttered in horror, as she covered her face, not wanting to watch how this would turn out.

Eventually, Tony and Natasha showed up, with Tony squeezing tightly to one kindergarten aged squirming boy, while Natasha trying to keep a hold of the two little girls, who were punching and biting her.

“James…” Natasha huffed as she tried keep the children from slipping through her arms, “Meet Fanta, Sprite, and Pibb.” She gestured her head towards the boy in Tony’s arm for the last name she listed.

“The youngest kids on the list.” Tony grunted as Pibb kicked him in the stomach, “5 years old, and apparently they belong to Agent Jack Rollins.”

“Let me go!” Fanta shrieked as she tried to fight Natasha some more, sounding more frightened than aggressive.

“Put them down.” Bucky commanded with gritted teeth.

“Cap-“ Tony tried to protest.

“NOW!” Bucky shouted, which silenced everyone, including the young triplets. Tony and Natasha did as he asked, and put the kids down gently, and to their surprise, they did not run or try to attack them. They just stood there, attentive to the most obvious authority in the room.

“So how did you find them?” Bucky asked calmly.

“Maria Hill found them in one of the S.H.I.E.L.D safe houses that was actually a Hydra rat trap.” Natasha explained.

Bucky shook his head in shame, feeling the betrayal of his STRIKE team all over again, but ten times as worse, “Where’s Rollins now?”

“In custody.” Natasha continued assuredly, “I locked him up myself. He was there when Pierce was killed.”

“Don’t hurt them! They haven’t even killed anyone yet!” Espresso yelled from her cell, her face pressed against the glass, with tears forming.

“We’re not going to hurt them, or any of you.” Bucky asserted.

“We just got to put them in time out for a while.” Tony announced to the rest, which made Bucky jerk his head.

“What?! You can’t lock them up, they’re five!” Bucky marched towards Tony.

“They’re still Winter Soldiers, Barnes. Who knows what they can do at their age.” Tony argued.

“He has a point. The Soda Liter is _still_ dangerous.” Baron interjected with a nod.

“But is what Espresso said true? Have they truly not killed anyone?” Bucky stood in front of his cell with crossed arms.

“Well…no, they haven’t,” Baron conceded, “but they have slaughtered their fair share of Thanksgiving turkeys, and they can show the practice robots who’s boss.”

“They haven’t done anything wrong, they’re tinkers!” Espresso pleaded, “Sure they get some weapons training, but they like gadgets and science things. They want to be a tech litter when they grow up like the Olympians or the Shakespeare Company!”

“See Tony? You have no right to put them in a cell.” Bucky fervently opposed him.

“Well I can’t let them run around as they please. What do you want from me?” Tony threw his arms up in frustration.

“Keep them in one of your labs or something, give them something to do.” Bucky suggested.

“My lab? Are you kidding me? I think you forget these children were raised by Hydra.” Tony shifted his jaw around.

“They were raised by my _wife_.” Bucky corrected him immediately, and took a deep breath, “Look, I know they don’t mean anything to you, but they are still my wife’s children, and I have to keep them safe.”

“Excuse me, Cap,” Tony’s voice got more aggressive, “but they _do_ mean to something to me. They have been digging and mucking up my life since my dad was still alive, and I’m not going to let you let them roam freely so that they can screw it up some more.”

“So you’re paranoid! I get it! I’m not asking you to let them all free, just the innocent ones.” Bucky tried to reason with him.

“There are no innocent ones.” Tony stood firm.

Bucky was frightened by the poison in Tony’s eyes, as well as Natasha’s defiant silence right next to him, which saddened him. If the Avengers were going to treat them as less than human, perhaps they were no better than the ones who made them. If they couldn’t be reasonable with the Winter Soldiers, how were they going to treat Stephanie when they found her?

“If you want them cooped up somewhere, fine. Keep them in my room.” Bucky said.

Tony hesitated, but nodded, “Deal.”

“And share your damn toys. Don’t let them go stir crazy.” Bucky snapped as he stormed off, tears forming in his eyes as he watched the five year olds look at their feet. One of them had even pulled a pouch from his pocket and started drinking from it.

“And where are you going?” Tony asked.

“I need a drink.” Bucky answered.

“The bar on the 5th floor is out of scotch, by the way.”

“I’m not drinking your stuff, Stark. I’m going out. Call me only if there’s an emergency.”


	26. Shooting the Breeze

Skye was the first one to read through Hydra’s leaked files. She had only looked at one photo before she hid her face on the desk, screaming into her palms in horror. The original Captain America was one of her idols since she was a little girl, and here she was, alive, but unconscious and handcuffed on a concrete floor with a red ball gag in her mouth, a black eye, bite marks on her exposed breasts. This disgusting photo was taken on a Hydra agent’s phone a few years ago and had been shared with hundreds of people since then. Skye did her best to delete every trace of the photo, but even then, there were still hundreds of other pictures out there, being shared and forwarded every second.

Her vision blurred with tears until she could no longer read her screen, but she had to keep going. She had to find out how this was possible. Stephanie Barnes had died about 70 years ago; she’s the one who inspired the current Captain America, who Skye also idolized and tried to empathize with the pain he was going through right now. After a couple hours, it was too much for her and she had to walk away from her laptop. Besides, Coulson had other work for her to do trying to track down this Obelisk.

She didn’t touch those files for another week, and she knew that Coulson was deliberately avoiding them as well. When she finally got to the files of the Winter Soldiers, she saw they were organized by litter, mostly. There was a “Misc.” folder that she quickly opened, but it only had a few profiles. These must’ve been the litterless soldiers. As she investigated further, she found that these ones were not born from Stephanie Barnes, but adopted into her little family. To her surprise, she found Ward among their ranks. She long knew by now that Ward was Hydra, but she never suspected this…

“Coulson, about the Mother Winter files, I-“ She tried to bring it up to him.

“Not now, Skye. We’ll discuss those when we’ve dealt with this Obelisk.” Coulson brushed her off, obviously uncomfortable.

“But it’s about Ward. He knew her.” Skye blurted out before he could stop her.

“I’m sure Ward knew a lot of people in Hydra, but we’ll take care of that later.” Coulson said.

“But he was-“

“Later, Skye.” Coulson snapped harshly, scaring her for a second. When he saw what he did to her, he went soft again, “I’m sorry. I know it’s important, but the Obelisk is an immediate threat right now, and that…that isn’t. And if we lose focus now, we could lose our chance at getting it back.”

A few days later, Skye was tasked to ask Ward about Carl Creel, and _only_ Carl Creel. No chit chat. Apparently, Ward was only willing to talk to her. After some assurance from Agent Koenig, she barely felt safe enough to confront Ward one-on-one.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Ward said softly, standing in the middle of his bare cell with only a bed in the corner. His dark beard was as scruffy as his unkempt hair, and his dark eyes intimidated as he stared. Skye said nothing, she just took her seat in front of him.

“I told Coulson weeks ago that I was willing to speak to you, to give you intelligence. Why now? Something bad happen? Or did you finally look into my little family history and-“

“Carl Creel. Garrett reported him dead, turns out he’s alive. Do you have any information on that?” Skye asked coldly.

“Really? That’s all you want to ask me about? I know you know, Skye. There’s no way you could just leave that Hydra leak alone. She’s a nice lady, and she would’ve loved to-“ Ward started but stopped himself when he saw Skye walking away, so he got back on topic, “The name sounds familiar. Do you have a picture?”

Skye held up his file on her tablet, and as he stepped to get a closer look, the energy barrier buzzed and heated up. When he drew back, he caught her staring at the scars on his wrist.

“Coulson didn’t tell you.” His face went still, “I went through a…rough stretch.”

Skye stared at him like she was was unamused but still attentive, so he kept going.

“The first pair of pants they gave me had a button on the back. They took that away, but if you fold a piece of paper just right, it gets sharp. When they took that away I started running at the walls.”

“You should have run faster.” Skye snarled.

“I’m through all that. Loving her is an addiction, and when you can’t feel her warmth from when she hugs you or kisses you on the cheek, it’s agony. When I came out of sedation, I was clear headed, accepting of who I am, what I’ve done, and why. I know I’m not her son, but she loved me like one. She loved me more than my real mother ever did. She could’ve loved you too, all of you, Fitz and Simmons as well. We could’ve been one happy litter-“

“I’m gonna say this once,” Skye stopped him, “I’m not going to believe a word that comes out of your mouth, but if a single word is about anything other than the question I’m asking, I walk.”

So Ward dropped it. He told her everything he knew about Creel, and how Hydra communicates to their agents through the white noise between S.H.I.E.L.D’s channels.

“If Hydra is giving commands to Creel, that’ll be how.” He informed her, “and who knows. You might even get in contact with some of my adoptive brothers and sisters.”

“We’ll see.” She had already turned around to leave.

“It’s true, and so will be every word I say to you for the rest of my life.” He added, “I’m not asking for forgiveness. And when that information proves true, I hope you’ll come back. There’s so much I want to tell you about…“

Skye turned the screen between them back into a wall and left.

 

* * *

 

Bucky had spent all day in the seedy bar in Hell’s Kitchen. His imperfect serum that had been tested on him in Zola’s laboratory made his metabolism significantly faster, but so no fast that he couldn’t get drunk. However, the sweet numbness of intoxication was always fleeting, only lasting for about 20 minutes each time, which made him drink more and more to escape coming down.

Over the past few stressful weeks, Bucky’s stubble grew, almost fleshing out in a beard. It left him unrecognizable amongst most civilians, who were used to a clean-shaven Captain America. The mounted TV in the corner showed sports for most of the day, but when 7 o’clock hit, the news came on, and the tables filled with the crowd just getting out of their late shifts. The bartender had to clear 20 of his empty bottles to make room for the other customers.

As groups chattered amongst themselves, the news droned on in the background with stock information and traffic news. Bucky zoned out until hearing his wife’s name brought him back.

_“In other news, the search continues for former Captain America, Stephanie Barnes. Barnes was declared killed in action in 1945 in a mission against the terrorist organization known as Hydra. After the shocking revelation that Hydra had infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D for an unknown number of years, both organizations appeared to have collapsed following a leakage of intelligence by an anonymous source. From this leak, it was revealed that Barnes was_ not _dead as previously assumed and had actually served as an agent for Hydra-“_

“Change it.” Bucky ordered, and the bartender did so, but unfortunately, the channel right after it was another news network that was in the middle of one of their discussion panels.

_“And just to make it clear, before I can continue, I just want to let people know that I was a big fan of Captain America growing up. She was undeniably a feminist icon both during the war, and after it. That being said, I do not think it is in the Avengers’ best interest to accept her into their ranks. I think even she would agree that she needs to answer for her crimes.” A neatly dressed brown-haired woman with shoulder-length hair and straight bangs asserted._

_“I don’t know anybody who thinks she should join the Avengers, but the question at hand is was she really brainwashed through all of it or is that just the wish of those just die-hard apologists who want to believe that Captain America can do no wrong? How much of this was ‘brainwashing’ and how much was done out of her own free will?”_

Bucky told himself that at least that news channel was focusing on her actual missions, most went straight for the disgusting photos. It was the only thing he could say to keep himself together.

“So did you see those pics of her that got leaked?” A burly man in an oil-stained jumpsuit asked his buddy at the table, which was directly behind Bucky’s stool.

“Yeah, I got the best ones saved on my ph-“

A half-empty bottle broke on the back of the man’s shaved head, and he fell out of the side of his chair, as he eyes rolled behind his head and went instantly unconscious. Bucky clutched the shattered neck of the bottle in his metal hand, huffing as his skin boiled. The whole bar went silent, and the burly man was too stunned to move for a second.

“What the fuck, man-“ The burly man finally stood up, but Bucky grunted as he kicked the man in the chest, right to the ground. As the man lay groaning, Bucky kept one boot firmly planted on his collarbone and threw his hand into the man’s pocket to grab his phone. He did a quick browse through the man’s photos and found just what he expected, several saved photos of Stephanie in leather straps and metal chains. He broke the phone in half with his hands and threw the pieces against the wall. Then, he grabbed the nearest chair and slammed it into the man’s face.

It turned out that guy had more than one friend at the bar, as the place quickly turned against him in a hollering riot. Every man who approached him got either a solid knockout punch to the face, a flying trip across the bar, or a broken leg. In the struggle, someone managed to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, revealing the entirety of his metal arm, as well as his wife’s trademark shield painted on the bicep. Those who weren’t already on the ground with their lights punched out fled. From the streets, you could hear the commotion and the sidewalks cleared up as soon as a big guy went crashing through the bar window. Once it was over, the whole bar was silent, save for the television which was still on the news. Even the bartender had escaped.

Bucky stood over dozens of bodies, without an ounce of regret. He returned to his bar stool to finish up the last of his drink, hoping to get one last buzz going before he returned to the Tower. He retreated into his thoughts, unaware that at some point, a blind man in red glasses had walked in and grabbed himself a drink. The man was either unaware of the destruction, or too preoccupied with his own problems to let one bar fight keep him from a cold beer.

_“Other fugitives from the law as a result from the Hydra leak are the numerous ‘Winter Soldiers’ who are allegedly the offspring of Stephanie Barnes and several known Hydra leaders. Our sources entail these agents have been living with assumed identities in numerous places, hiding amongst school children as students and even going as far as the Senate, with Senator Spencer Whitehall and his Press Secretary Leslie Whitehall both being on the list. Even practicing doctors and lawyers can be found on the list including local lawyer Franklin Nelson of Nelson and Murd-“_

A shot glass shattered directly on the power button, shutting it off, but it wasn’t Bucky who threw it. Bucky turned to the blind man, who had isolated himself in the corner, not even making a sound. The two were left alone in silence, until the jukebox started behind them.

After a hard kick to get it going, the machine played Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation.” The clacking of boots approached Bucky from behind. A dark-haired woman in a leather jacket slowly stepped over all the bodies strewn on the floor. She stood right next to Bucky at the bar, where a shot of whiskey had been abandoned. She drank the whole shot in one gulp and turned the glass over on the table.

“I’m sorry about your wife.” She muttered in a slurred voice. Bucky looked at the woman, but she didn’t look at him back. She just leaned her elbows on the wooden bar and sighed, “That’s fucked up, what happened to her.”

Bucky finished the last of his drink, grabbed his jacket off the floor, and left before the sirens finally blared through the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that was a Daredevil and Jessica Jones cameo at the end, in case you were wondering.


	27. The Seafood Platter Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After much hesitation, Agent Brock Rumlow tries this Mother Winter character out for himself, but both he and the mysterious Asset get so much more than they expected.

When Brock Rumlow was recruited into S.H.I.E.L.D by Hydra commanders, it took a few months to hear about Mother Winter, and how she’d do anything you wanted if you say the trigger words. He doubted he’d ever end up on the same missions with her, especially when she was busy all over the world. Even if he did, he wasn’t interested. Where’s the fun without the chase?

After proving himself worthy in countless missions during the war in Afghanistan, Rumlow was promoted to S.H.I.E.L.D’s STRIKE team in 2002, composed of their best operatives. He read up on the rest of his teammates as he gathered his things from his locker, and he recognized every single one of them. With the promotion meant reassignment to the Triskelion, and being personally escorted there by the Director.

“So is it on purpose or coincidence that this team is all Hydra?” Rumlow asked Director Pierce in the tinted windowed limousine.

“They’re nominated by different commanders on both sides, but I do I have a say in the final team, so on purpose. It’s still an honor though.” Pierce insisted.

On his first assignment with the new team, they were given a list of defected Hydra agents who thought they could start over and build a new life, and were ordered to terminate them. The list was long and would take several months to track them all down, but Director Pierce gave them an asset to work with.

“Maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll get one of the girls.” One agent slyly smiled against the car parked in the dusty desert where their first target was hiding.

“Man, it better not be Duchess. She’s a bitch.”

“Maybe he’s giving us Princess to honeypot these bastards.”

“You know if he gives us Roman, we’re in for a show. I hear he fights like a Mortal Kombat character.”

Brock had no idea who they were talking about. He ignored Hydra lore and their bullshit urban legends about Hydra babies. Those were probably just codenames for entitled agents who got in because daddy pulled a few strings and they wanted to feel special.

The helicopter that was supposed to drop off their asset flew over their heads and right past them, without stopping or lowering a rope ladder. Something seemed to come crashing towards them, and when they looked closely, they could see it was a person navigating their way through freefall. The person crashed with an impact that blurred the scene with sand. When it settled, it revealed their tall blonde asset, her face covered with goggles and a mask, with guns strapped on her back and thighs.

“Oh shit, we got the big Mama.” One of the agents got excited, and Brock knew he was talking about.

“Alright, big whoop, get your asses in the car.” Brock didn’t come here for a show, he came to work. The asset did as he said and took her seat in the back of the car, with the rest of STRIKE obviously watching her from behind. For the first time ever, he saw grown men fight over every other seat except for shotgun.

They drove into a small town with concrete houses and outdoor marketplaces. The skies darkened as night came, their hour to strike. Their target knew better than to keep himself isolated where he could be killed quietly, so he lived in a penthouse apartment in the luxurious part of town, where security wasn’t alarming and parties every night kept eyes all over the place. To blend in, they’d need to change into more appropriate clothing.

Mother Winter didn’t need help getting into her dress, so she changed away from the rest of STRIKE. She had just finished with her lipstick when Rumlow let himself in. As part of her soldier mode programming, she stood at attention, alert and focused at his presence.

“I’ve heard a lot of stories about you, Winter.” He stood out the doorway of her hotel room, crossing his arms, “Hydra’s whore, they call you.”

She blinked a couple times. It was a familiar title that she barely remembered, but like all things she barely remembered, thinking too hard about it would create noisy static in her mind.

“Standing there with a pretty face isn’t all you’re good for.” Rumlow approached her, “I got a hold of your dossier, over a hundred missions, over the past 50 years? You sure don’t look like you’ve been around that long. What’s your story?”

When he got close enough, he saw her glassy stare. “Hey, anyone home? I’m talking to you.”

“I have no story.” She responded. She didn’t sound defiant or defensive. She was stating all she knew.

“So is it a legacy role? The old Mother Winter retires and a new tall blonde takes her place without anyone noticing.” He prodded.

“Is it?” She asked back, like she was considering that idea as the truth behind her, because she sure didn’t know.

What irritated Brock the most was that he could tell she wasn’t playing dumb. There was no use to getting rough with her if it wasn’t going to get anything out of her. Still, it was worth a shot. He grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the wall. She didn’t even flinch or take a quick scared breath. Of course it wouldn’t, it wasn’t a real threat without a weapon. He reached for his knife, but before he could even pull it out of its sheath, she’d kneed him in the abdomen and grabbed his hand and twisted it behind his back. He tried to elbow her with his free arm, but she had already grabbed a hold of his bicep and squeezed it tightly. She threw him over her head into the wall behind them, holding his knife in her hands.

He gasped, trying to get his wind back as he pulled himself off his hands and knees, looking at her with new eyes.

She threw his knife back to him and finished putting on her mascara. As he put it back into its proper place, she clicked the magazine of her gun into place,

“You guard the exits, and I corner him in the bathroom and break his neck. Correct?” She went over the mission plan one more time.

“Yeah, you got it.” Rumlow adjusted the holster on his belt, “Ready to move?” He asked, but she was already out the door.

* * *

 

It took STRIKE about a month to cross out every name on the list, which was way ahead of schedule. The team chocked it up to the teamwork between Mother Winter and Agent Rumlow. Sure, they had their rough start, but both acted without hesitation. She followed his commands, and soon, he could predict her moves in combat and cover her blind spots when they were surrounded by hostiles. Because of their success, the commanders assigned her to work with them more often.

Rumlow watched how after missions, team members would whisper in her ear and she melted into them like butter. She turned into a different person, losing all focus and becoming a sweating, moaning mess. No wonder they called her a whore, it was disgustingly fake, like a poorly-made porno. He honestly found her far more attractive when she was in her “soldier mode” as it was called.

One mission only needed Brock and the asset, and required them to camp out on an island off the African coast for weeks. The days were boiling and the nights were freezing. Brock hadn’t sought private time with her throughout the year he’d known her, so being alone with her for an entire mission ought to be interesting.

Because of the heat, Mother Winter had to ditch her leather catsuit for a tank top and cargo shorts, but she still kept her mask.

“You don’t need to wear that around me, I’ve seen your face before.” Rumlow told her, which made her reach to slip it off, “Ah ah ah- I didn’t say take it off. You know what? Keep it on, it suits you.”

She wore it so often that it was like a second skin. Even in Whore mode, she didn’t take it off; someone else would normally take it off for her to shove their cock in her mouth.

Since they were alone on this island, he didn’t need to worry about her tent being crowded with the rest of STRIKE. He unzipped the opening and crawled inside, with the moon too dim to shine through the material. He wasn’t going to sleep in the cold tonight. She didn’t even flinch at the surprise guest crawling next to her, running his hand up her arm.

“Normally, I don’t go for the girls who’ve fucked more guys than they can remember, but you’ve caught my attention.” He slipped his fingers inside of her. She didn’t even gasp. In soldier mode, it was going to take a lot more than that. He wrapped an arm around her, kissing a trail on her neck and biting different places, hoping she could still feel something in this mode. His lips ran into the polymer of her mask. Damn, she even slept in the damn thing. When she hissed and pushed him away as he bit the spot right under her ear, he smiled deviously.

He rolled on top of her, running his hands down her chest and sticking his fingers back inside her, feeling around until she reacted with a jerk and quiet gasp. She threw her hands out onto his shoulders, trying to keep him at a distance. He slipped his fingers in and out harder, and with a steady rhythm, until she grew wet on his fingers. The sensation made her arms weaken, allowing him to bring his chest against hers.

“Oh c’mon, tough girl. I know you can put up a better fight than that.” He taunted with a whisper in her ear. She launched herself forward and flipped him on his back, with her fist flying down to sock him in the face, but he caught her wrist just in time. He ran his hand over her cheek and pulled off her mask and tossed it to the side, feeling her lips. She tried to bit his thumb, but she missed. She wrapped her free hand around his throat, but the once again, his fingers pressed against the sweet spot inside her, and her fingers were too tingly to squeeze.

He rolled her on her back again, letting go of her wrist and wrapping his hand around her jaw, holding her mouth open so he could kiss her. She wriggled her hips under him, which pressed her crotch against his. He kept holding her face and breathing heavily on her as he pulled down his pants and unbuttoned hers.  

For her, there was no insatiable burning. No begging to be touched. She was wet, but when he filled her with himself, it felt…different. She wasn’t overburdened with painful sensations, just a small one that was itching to get bigger little by little. The same went for the way he touched her and kissed her, rough enough to make feel something. She couldn’t remember the last time being used felt like this.

“Tell me…” He groaned in her ear as he thrust slowly in her, “What’s a man gotta do to make you cum?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t made to cum, but he didn’t know that. He took her silence as a challenge, and flipped her on top so he could feel the thick skin of her back while rocking his hips steadily. She kept quiet until she felt a strange comfort in his movements which made her press her lips together and gasp. He chuckled at the little noises she made and grasped her ass firmly, keeping her pressed on him to make his thrusts go in further.

“Ah-!” She moaned sharply. She couldn’t help but enjoy how that felt, like something was building up in her. She arched her back and clutched his legs, digging her nails into his thighs. He hissed and shot his chest up until it ran into hers, leaving him sitting up with her bouncing in his lap. She grinded against him, feeling a euphoric tingle in her arms and legs. She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, squeezing it as she drove herself to the place she was not allowed to go.

An orgasm for her was more than a few shivers and warm feelings. For a split second, her mind felt free. She was conscious of the body that belonged to her, and years of pent up overstimulation finally released. She knew no other way to process this pleasure than to violently strike Rumlow in the face with the bones of her palm, and then she came back down, back to her clouded mind, and gasped when she realized she had just attacked the man in charge of her. All the times he’d challenged her earlier, she understood that she demonstrating her skills, but this kind of act would be punished severely.

He grunted at the slap, stunned for a moment before the pain sunk in. He adjusted his jaw to feel if the bone was broken. No fractures, but it stung like hell and was bleeding. The woman nearly broke his face while he was still inside her. He threw his face into hers to kiss her furiously, and clutched on her back tightly. He came hard inside her, hissing and groaning the whole time. He gave her one last peck on the lips before he shoved her off of him. The cold island air was a relief on his burning skin. She curled over on her side, clutching her blanket tightly to herself.

“You’re such a fucking mystery, Winter, I swear.”

* * *

 

Brock was honestly shocked to get called into Pierce’s office over this. He knew it was about her, but what he didn’t understand is why he was getting shit for it while everyone else got away with it scot-free. Maybe it was because it was turning into a regular thing for them. They’d hook up on missions, and sometimes on the rides home before she had to return to wherever they keep her. Sometimes, they got burgers and fries on the way. Maybe it was because he talked to her, trying to see if he could get her to talk back for once.

“Agent Rumlow, have a seat.” Pierce instructed as he adjusted his own desk chair and folded his hands on the desk. Rumlow did so without hesitation.

“How do you like STRIKE?” Pierce asked, sounding friendly.

“I…like what we do. Feels nice to actually get stuff done.” Rumlow shrugged and folded his fist in his palm.

“Good, so you fit in well. How does the Asset fit in though? She hasn’t been any trouble has she?”

Brock knew that he knew Mother Winter was one of STRIKE’s favorite assets, after all, Pierce was the one who kept assigning them to work together, “She’s practically one of us. She follows orders. She doesn’t ask questions. She just does what needs to be-“

“She’s two months pregnant.” Pierce interrupted him, “and I know it was you.”

Brock’s face went still as he tried to figure out how he could talk his way out of this. All he could do was blow a huff of air out and squeeze his fist a little tighter.

“Brock…relax.” Pierce stood up and smiled, “This isn’t a bad thing. This is actually a really good thing.”

“Sir?” Rumlow scrunched his face in confusion, especially since he still felt like this was going to bite him in the ass.

“Brock, how much do you know about Mother Winter?” Pierce asked him.

“Other than the trigger phrases and the way she kills a man, sir? Not a damn thing.”

“You haven’t heard the stories of the Winter Soldiers?”

“I’ve heard of them, but not the whole story.” Brock admitted.

“She got her codename for a reason. She really is their mother. All of them.”

“That’s nuts. That would mean she has-“

“29 children, and counting.”

Brock’s face went numb. He really had to be careful what he wished for. He wanted to know her story, and he got it.

“How did she-“

“She’s older than she looks, Rumlow. Don’t worry, she can handle it. She’s not built like normal people. Call her…an experiment.”

“Hydra’s whore…” Rumlow muttered to himself.

“-and its mother, and its wife.” Pierce finished. He noticed how Brock was still frozen, trying to put together all the pieces, so he assured him, “You don’t have to do anything, Agent Rumlow. We’ll take care of it from here. She’ll have the children, and you don’t have to lift a finger.”

“Woah, woah” Rumlow finally broke out of his trance and gestured to himself with a pointed finger, “If those kids are mine, I want to see them.”

Pierce shrugged, “It’s your litter, you can do what you want with them. They’re your legacy.”

“They become soldiers, right? From the day they’re born?” Rumlow asked.

“They become Hydra agents, yes. If they’re anything like you or their mother, I’m sure war will be their calling.” Pierce nodded.

“Well, then I better keep tabs on them.” Brock cracked a join in his neck. So not only were Winter Soldiers everything they were rumored to be, but he was going to have some of his own. As long as he could do anything about it, he would make sure they lived up to standards of order that he lived by. He wasn’t going to let this opportunity go.


	28. The Seafood Platter Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumlow takes a different approach than the other fathers of Hydra babies have in the past.

“Hey, what’s Agent Rumlow doing here this early?” Princess asked Wolfe while making Wagner’s bed for him while he was answering a mission call. She spotted Rumlow walking into the men’s room on their floor with a toothbrush.

“He spent the night.” Wolfe said like it was obvious, throwing a Hydra-logoed stress ball up as he lay on the top bed of the triple bunk.

“Again?” Princess furrowed her brow.

“Yeah, he thinks he’s her boyfriend or something, Pfft.” Wolfe scoffed.

“Does he know about the other agents who visit her?”

“How could he not?” Wolfe stopped throwing the ball and squeezed it tightly, “She can’t go one day down that hallway without being pulled into the closet.”

“And yet he doesn’t seem to mind, Hm.” Princess smirked, “Like a true chief mistress.”

“Pffft, Ha!” Wolfe genuinely belly laughed, “That’s good, I’m stealing that.”

“Tell no one I said that.” Princess snapped, knowing that most commanders hated when Winter Soldiers showed their senses of humor. Rule Six: Do not be clever.

“Fine, it’ll just be one of our secret in-jokes then.” Wolfe smiled, “I love those.”

In Mother Winter’s quarters, which had only a twin-sized bed and a walk-in closet with her suits and rifles, Brock returned to put his black pants and shirt back on. The woman herself was zipping up her trusted leather maternity jacket and strapping her weapons to her back.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Brock asked.

“We have a mission.” She answered.

“S.T.R.I.K.E has a mission. You don’t, you’re pregnant.” Brock sternly told her, which honestly confused her. Did she have a mission or not? One commander said she did and this one said she didn’t. She froze in place, muttering, “But…Commander Pierce…”

“I’ll handle Pierce. You get back into bed.” He grabbed her shoulder, and kissed her rosy lips, “Stand down, Asset. They need you.”

He could feel her muscles loosen, and she unzipped her jacket, putting it back in the closet and strolling back to bed. She groaned as she lay on the stiff mattress, rubbing her round stomach that was four months away from delivery. He covered her with the only blanket she had, a tan-colored cotton spread that looked like it was stolen from a hospital. He gave her a quick stroke of her cheek before he took off.

Pierce definitely noticed when the Asset didn’t show up to the loading dock, and he wasn’t pleased.

“We don’t even need her for this mission.” Brock asserted.

“That’s not your call, Agent.” Pierce sternly looked through his glasses, “I know you’re concerned about her condition, but I assure you, she’s handled worse, even like this.”

Brock didn’t know how to answer that, so he just pursed his lips and looked away for a moment.

“I hope you’re not getting too attached.” Pierce crossed his arms, “She belongs to everyone, not just you. Knocking her up doesn’t make you special.”

“I understand, sir.” Brock took the scolding like a grade-schooler, with no intention of actually changing his attitude.

“You’re not leaving without an Asset. I’ll cut you a break this time and give you the Coffee Pot, but just this once.”

* * *

 

Eight months into her pregnancy, and Mother Winter was still going on missions, mostly undercover, since to other organizations, it was laughable to suspect the heavily pregnant woman. Rumlow didn’t know how she could still outrun the rest of the team, but the medics always assured him that everything was fine and he didn’t need to worry.

“And they’ve still got you on those shitty soups?” Rumlow asked, while on a late-night run for Chinese food for the team.

“It’s enough.” She said, drinking the vitamin-rich slurry out of a metal thermos.

“C’mon, the doc said you’re eating for four. You’re getting some real food.” Brock turned to the window and ordered her the Sweet and Sour Chicken, with fried rice, and two egg rolls.

She joined the rest of S.T.R.I.K.E on the circular sofa arched around the sports game at Rumlow’s shared apartment with Rollins. While the rest cheered and shouted at the screen, she drowned her fried chicken pieces in sweet sauce, enough to coat the edge of her lips with every bite. It was a lot of food, which she thoroughly enjoyed, but she enjoyed it far too quickly.

An hour later, she hit the floor, moaning and rubbing her stomach in pain.

“Babe, what’s the matter with you?” Rumlow picked her up by her armpits off of the ground. She couldn’t explain the bubbling discomfort that was making her wince and hiss. He feared something was wrong, so he rushed her to the techs as soon as possible.

“It’s nothing serious, just some indigestion. She’s never gotten sick from her meals before, though.” The doctor on call looked checked her monitors.

“Maybe she’s finally had enough.” Brock shrugged.

“That’s not likely, she wouldn’t get sick of her daily nutrients.” The doctor looked at the levels of glucose again, “And you’re sure she didn’t eat anything else?”

“Nope, nothing at all.”

* * *

 

_February 19, 2004_

He was dowsed in sweat after a morning of lifting and sparring in the training room. Lunch was on Johnson that day at the seafood joint by the water. Rumlow had been looking forward to it all week, but then he got the call from tech. Mother Winter was in labor, and she was fully dilated.

“So how long’s this gonna take, Doc?” Rumlow asked.

“As long as she needs, but her contractions are coming faster, so I’d get down here if you really want to see it.” The doctor told him. Rumlow let out a big sigh, since that wasn’t helpful at all.

“Alright, where is she?” Rumlow swept his hair back.

“I’m sending you the coordinates now.”

Since Mother Winter’s true purpose was only known to the higher ranks of Hydra, Director Pierce didn’t like to make a big spectacles when new litters were born. She didn’t go to the regular clinic set up in the Triskelion. She went to a far more isolated portable on base. It was a little metal shack that looked more like a garage, with only the basic medical machines behind the plastic curtains. The buzzing light flickered out of rhythm with her steady heartbeat on the monitor, which quickened with every contraction.

Rumlow took a seat next to her, honestly amazed to see her in such a frenzy. Even under the most pressing circumstances, she stayed calm on a mission. He’d seen her run through a shower of bullets unscathed and unafraid, and now she was huffing and whining like she was afraid of the pain about to hit.

After a while, however, the contractions were slowing down, even though she had not delivered.

“This happens sometimes. We just have to wait.” The doctor said.

Rumlow leaned back in his seat and groaned. He was already late to lunch, and his stomach was roaring. He’d already sat there for an hour, and he really needed to get something to eat. Without an explanation, he got of his seat and left Mother Winter’s bedside. She didn’t call or reach for him, but she did look at him in confusion. She had grown accustomed to him at her side, so it felt strange to watch him go.

One hour, two hours passed by until her contactions returned, too powerful to ignore. Her legs were in the stirrups, and used most of her strength to push. Nothing yet, but the contraction was still strong, so she pushed again. Almost, but not quite. She had to wait for the next one. As her head fell back on the pillow and to the side, she caught a blurry figure that she had to blink a few times to see clearly.

Rumlow had returned, back in his seat, with a white plastic tray to-go tray of seafood in his lap, “You miss me? I can see I didn’t miss much.”

The next contraction made her groan loudly as she squeezed with all her might. She squeezed until her ears popped, which muffled the cry on the other end. She couldn’t stop to take a breath. She had to keep going. The first loud cry was joined by another loud cry and then another more gurgly noise.

“So that’s the miracle of life.” Rumlow got up and held the runt himself once they were cut and clean, “Can’t believe such tiny things can kill you.”

Mother Winter never took her eyes off of them, sitting up and reaching for them for as long as they were crying. Rumlow brought her two of the big one, one boy and one girl, while he kept holding the smallest boy for himself.

“Wow, Hydra really does put themselves on everything.” Rumlow chuckled as he saw the pink Hydra logo on the girl’s knit cap and the blue ones on the boys, “It’s amazing how they’ve stayed a secret so long.”

Rumlow held his boy and looked at his woman holding his other two as she fell asleep. Three children who he was responsible for, three lives he could make worthwhile or leave to their own devices. They could love him or they could absolutely despise him. He would make sure they would respect him, but not by demanding it as he gave out orders from a recliner with a beer in his hand. Not like his old man. No, he was going to deserve their respect, and in time, they would deserve his.

“Care to name them, Agent Rumlow?” The doctor asked as he intruded on the scene.

Rumlow took a moment, all this time and he hadn’t picked any names yet. He knew the traditional joke was to give them dumb pet names, but he wanted them to sound like real agents when they grew up, too. He looked around for some immediate inspiration and found his tray of leftover seafood.

“That’s…Shark.” Rumlow pointed to the big boy on Mother Winter’s left side, followed by the girl on her right side, “That’s Catfish, and this,” he gently jostled the runt in his arms, “This is Shrimp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, I believe every single Hydra baby has been introduced and named at some point. So you guys can have the full Powerpoint with all the Hydra babies names, fathers, birthdays, and pictures. 
> 
> https://www.dropbox.com/s/w8a84ukzb6aolmc/Hydra%20Babies%20Chart.pptx?dl=0
> 
> And in case you can't see the Powerpoint, I will briefly list the names of the babies and their fathers here, from oldest to youngest
> 
> 1945- Purebloods- Roman and Charity Schmidt- The Red Skull   
> 1946- Zodiacs- Libra and Scorpio Reinhardt- Werner Reinhardt/Daniel Whitehall  
> 1950- Bluebloods- Duke, Duchess, and Baron Strucker- Wolfgang Von Strucker; Prince and Princess Zemo- Baron Heinrich Zemo  
> 1952- Olympians- Hera, Zeus, Hades, and Hermes Zola- Arnim Zola  
> 1955- Rhyming Scheme- Arnie, Barnie, and Marnie- Unknown Father  
> 1969- Alphabet- Alpha, Beta, and Gamma- Bob the Hydra Agent  
> 1970- Composers- Wagner, Beethoven and Wolfgang(Wolfe) Pierce- Alexander Pierce  
> 1983-Coffee Pot- Latte, Espresso, and Decaf Stern- Senator Stern  
> 1996-Shakespeare- Desdemona, Hamlet, Macbeth and Lear Kafka- Dr. Ashley Kafka   
> 2004-Seafood Platter- Catfish, Shark, and Shrimp Rumlow- Brock Rumlow  
> 2009- Soda Liters- Pibb, Fanta and Sprite Rollins- Jack Rollins


	29. Scraping the Bone

_5 minutes after the Hydra Leak_

“But if you use poison, they’ll be able to track that when they do the autopsy.” Catfish said as swung herself on the school’s swing set.

“Maybe you could poison them with something so common that anyone would have it, like bleach.” Shrimp added, while swinging right next to her, trying to go higher in order to launch himself further.

“Yeah, if you can get them to chug it and then not take themselves to the hospital.” Shark pushed his legs with a full force and threw himself off the swing, rolling into a ball for a flip before sticking the landing on the gravel.

“Show off.” Catfish jumped off her swing just before it hit the peak height and landed a good several inches ahead of him, “We’re going for how far you get, not what kind of tricks you can do.”

Shrimp was just about to take his turn, when his cellphone went off with the chime tone set specifically for their dad’s text messages. He dug his heels into the gravel to stop so he could look at it, but his little 10-year-old body got a wave of shivers when he saw the words “COVERS BLOWN. ESCAPE IMMEDIATELY. AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.”

Shark and Catfish got the same message and they all looked at each other in horror.

“Crap!” Catfish explained as she heard sirens in the distance and saw the principal making his way through the elementary school playground. They all made a break for it, staying close to each other as they jumped over the wired fence straight into the faculty parking lot. To make their getaway, they needed something that could fit in between lanes, but big enough to pick up some gear and passengers along the way if necessary. They settled on the vice principal’s minivan, breaking the windows to let themselves in, and Cat taking the driver’s seat and hotwiring the ignition before the authorities could make it into the parking lot.

“Why do you always get to drive?” Shark groaned from shotgun while Shrimp kept watch from the backseat.

“Because I’m the only one tall enough to reach the pedals and see over the steering wheel.” She smugly explained as she stretched her neck out to get a good view.

“That’s not fair! Boys are supposed to be taller than girls.” Shark whined as they swerved out on the road.

“Oh my God, who cares! Someone just call Dad and ask him what’s going on!” Catfish didn’t know where else to go, so she got on the highway where cops could only chase them from behind.

“But he said to wait for further instructions!” Shrimp had the number on the screen of his phone, but he hesitated to press it.

“I’m going 95 and have no idea where to exit, I can’t wait that long.” Catfish had to yell over the roar of the wind blowing through the broken windows.

Shrimp’s breathing intensed as the speakerphone kept ringing and ringing until Brock finally picked up.

“Dad, what’s happening? What do we do?!” Shrimp asked frantically.

“Give me your location.” Brock ordered, trying to keep it professional as he made his way through the Triskelion keeping an eye out for anyone loyal to Captain America to take out.

“We’re on DC 4, just pass Exit 27.” Catfish explained calmly.

“Hydra’s intel has been leaked and the Triskelion’s under fire. I need an immediate extraction. I’ll explain the rest later.” Brock spoke into his headset as he ran up the stairs with his gun in hand.

“What about Mom?” Shark asked.

“On separate orders. Don’t worry about her. Just get your asses over here.”

“We’ll be there in 10 minutes. Location?” Catfish asked.

“I’m on 41, headed towards the southwest stairwell-Gah!” Brock’s communicator was punched out of his ear by the Falcon, who had been waiting for him behind the door.

“Dad, what’s happening? Dad!” Shrimp heard only static and some shuffling in the background. He knew by now what a fight sounded like. He also knew he wasn’t supposed to let the panic get to him, but his dad could be in serious trouble and they weren’t there to do anything. He faced the window of the trunk to both keep watch and hide his face growing red and pushing out tears.

“That’s good enough. I know where to go.” Catfish pushed her blonde pigtails behind her ears and focused on the road. They had to get off the highway when they saw blocked off lanes with nasty crashes that looked like Mama’s doing, since car doors were scattered everywhere.

“Did we already forget the part where Dad’s text said our covers were blown? Is anyone going to look into that at all?” Shark asked as he watched for cop or FBI cars.

“You have a phone, do it yourself.” Catfish finally got on the road that would lead straight to the Triskelion. Shark was just about to look on Twitter, but was instantly distracted by the sudden blockage sunlight by a giant grey figure. From miles away, they could see the Helicarriers soaring through the air.

“They launched those today? Why didn’t anyone tell us?!” Shark threw himself back in his seat, frustrated with being kept out of the loop today. Even if Winter Soldiers weren’t supposed to know all of Hydra’s intelligence, one person usually got the dirt and then spread it to the rest, but no one had said a word about putting Project Insight into action.

“Is it…supposed to be…” Catfish murmured as she noticed everything going terribly wrong. The Helicarriers weren’t supposed to be on fire and they looked like they were coming down, heading straight for the…

* * *

 

“You’re out of your depth, kid.” Rumlow grinned as he stood on top of the office desk, towering over Captain America’s new little sidekick who was trying to pick himself off the ground. He expected Sam’s fear-filled eyes to be directed towards him, but he could see that he was looking right through him, and then he finally heard the roaring. He took one glance to see the giant Helicarrier inches from crashing through the window.

“Son of a BITCH!” By the time Rumlow sprinted into action, Sam had already gotten a head start. Of course, he couldn’t worry about this guy right now, he had three little fuckers headed this way in the car. If Rumlow had jumped off the desk and taken the extra split second to balance himself before running, he wouldn’t have made it. Instead, he leaped from desk to desk across the room as the Helicarrier crushed everything behind him into dust.

When he reached the glass wall, he realizes there was nowhere to go but the Helicarrier itself. It was a burning wreck right now, but it was better than the floor crumbling beneath his feet. With one powerful jump, he just barely reached a loose cable swinging under the cannons. There was no surface to climb to, so he clung to the thick wire even though it burned blisters into his fingers, and that wasn’t even the worst of the damage. Sparks from malfunctioning tech and embers from the electrical fires fell towards him, stinging the flesh wherever it landed. A small explosion above him sent a large cloud of dust and fire than singed part of his forehead and cheek. He grunted through the pain and kept his eyes open to find a good place to jump.

It wasn’t an ideal height, but he’d seen Captain Barnes survive worse. He jumped and landed feet first into the Potomac, swimming to land before the Helicarrier could land on top of him. The water had cooled the burns on his face, but they were still painfully raw. Now he had to get a phone so he could make sure the tykes weren’t fucking things up even more.

* * *

 

“Dad was in there! Oh my God, Dad is dead. He’s dead. He has to be. I can’t think of how he’d survive that!” Shrimp gave up hiding his panic and openly sobbed. Shark just tried repeatedly calling him, but there was no answer. Catfish took the car off the path and into the forest, somewhere dense enough where the trees would hide the car. There was no point in driving into the wreckage of a building where most of the Hydra agents had most likely fled by now.

Finally, Cat’s phone rang, but from an unknown number with a local area code. She cautiously answered it, but didn’t speak. She just waited for the other line to talk first.

“Cat?” The familiar scratchy voice gave her a giant sense of relief.

“Dad!” She exclaimed with tears filling her eyes before clearing her throat and trying to be serious again for him, “What are our orders?”

“The Triskelion’s in the shitter. We’re on our own for now. I gotta come get you, I can’t have you driving through this fuckpile.” Rumlow called from the last payphone in the DC area.

“Should I send you our coordinates? It’s kind of hard to say where we are in these trees.” Catfish looked around for any markers. She could hear him groan on the other end.

“Just meet me near the bank on Weber. Is that close to you?”

“I think so.”

“Good, and cover your faces, and don’t talk to anybody.” Brock firmly instructed before hanging up. He lost his gun with the Triskelion, but the bank was one of Hydra’s convenient bases that provided weapons and transportation during emergency. He just hoped that no one had claimed them yet.

Brock got there before the kids did, snatching the last van full of loaded machine guns. By the time he pulled out of the back entrance down the alley, he could see his three little soldiers running towards the van. He also spotted the agents gaining on them, whether they were FBI or faithful S.H.I.E.L.D agents, it didn’t matter. They knew these kids were more dangerous than they looked and they were aimed to kill. Shots rang out and made holes in the brick walls of the alley.

He jumped out of the driver’s seat and opened the back of the van, screaming for them to jump in. The next few moments happened so quickly but felt like time was slowing down. Cat made it to the van. She was alright. Shrimp blubbered like an idiot, but he made it to the van. Shark, the little shit, didn’t run in the zigzag formation Brock had taught him so many fucking times. The boy jolted and gasped as a bullet went through his leg, sending him rolling across the gravel.

“Fuck!” Brock threw his fist into the side of the van. He grabbed a gun from the back and unloaded a round at every agent ganging up on them. When they all went down, he ran to Shark, who was clutching his bleeding leg, still very much conscious and in serious pain. He grabbed the boy by the back of his shirt and threw him over his shoulder, “What did I tell you?! You run straight, you’re a perfect target! You would be dead right now if it weren’t for dumb luck!”

“I’m sorry, Dad…” Shark whimpered as he clutched Brock’s shirt for support.

“Shut up, just let me see it.” Brock set him down next to his siblings in the back. Catfish and Shrimp were too shocked to say anything. The bullet had gone through the meat of his calf, and hit the bone, but it hadn’t shattered it in half completely.

“Is it bad?! Am I going to lose my leg?” Shark asked through his tearful wheezing and painful whimpers.

“What happened to your face?” Catfish couldn’t ignore the harsh burns.

“You’ll live, kid.” Brock ignored the last question and grabbed Catfish’s hands and put them right where she would need to apply the pressure to limit the bleeding and returned to the wheel, “But now we gotta find a medic. Lay low back there until we’re out of the city limits.”

“Dad…” Shrimp cleared his shaky voice, “…was Mom in the building?”

Brock actually laughed, shaking his head, “Your Ma isn’t going to let one falling building or air carrier take her down. She’s tougher than that.”

“So where is she?” Catfish asked.

“Well, sweetheart, that’s for us to find out, isn’t it?”


	30. Two S.T.R.I.K.E.s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumlow loses his privileges when Mother Winter's programming goes terrible wrong.

Sending Mother Winter back to bed was Brock’s first strike. The second was far more serious, even though he wasn’t technically involved, because Pierce guessed why she malfunctioned in what was unofficially called the Massacre of ’05.

It was a typical Friday night, with Mother Winter bound in titanium chains that hung from the recreation room ceiling on her floor. She was suspended high enough that only her toes reached the ground and her arms were stuck above her head. That night, she was given an angelic look, with glossy pink lips and a sheer white slip. S.T.R.I.K.E was busy in Lebanon, so Brock wasn’t there to kiss her and call her beautiful. All she got were a pack of standard henchmen who knew none of her secrets.

There must have been ten of them pulling her their way, lifting the slip just enough to grind on her. She couldn’t pull away if she wanted to, especially when three of them grabbed her at every angle. They held her legs up, squeezing her ass to keep her in place as they fucked her. In the heat of it, someone grabbed a knife off their belt and cut through one of the thin straps of her slip, letting it fall just enough to expose one of her breasts. Some of them hit her just to hear her groan, with one guy splitting her lip open, making her moan in pain. At this point, Tech knew how much people were allowed to get away with during Whore mode. They made sure she could take everything willingly. Or at least, they thought they had.

This was not the first time a child of hers accidentally walked in on her being beaten and groped. Most of the time, someone was there to lead the child back to their room, but for some reason, little 18-month old Shark managed to sneak out of his crib that night and go for a stroll without running into any guards. It was a big place after all, and the night shift crew often lost focus while watching empty hallways. The infant woke up because he was hungry, and he followed the noise all the way to the recreation room.

It took a while for someone to realize that the kid was there. Instead of carefully shooing him away as most did in the past, one henchman pushed the baby boy flat on his diaper, in front of his mother. No one else could hear Shark crying above the sound of everyone else’s laughter and chatter, except for Mother Winter. For her, everything else in the room was dead silent, except for her son’s cries ringing in her ears, piercing into the deepest layer of her mind. He was in distress and no one was helping him. Her heart raced faster, and she clenched her muscles tightly as her head rushed with something that was beyond her programming. Pure, primal rage fought through, giving her a splitting headache that made her scream.

She wasn’t on Whore mode anymore, but she wasn’t exactly on Mother or Soldier mode either. When the next guy who grabbed her face looked into her eyes, he saw something there for a moment, like a real person was coming through.

In an instant, she yanked her arms down hard enough to break her chains off the ceiling. With her wrists still bound together, she threw them into the henchman’s chin in an uppercut that smashed his tongue between his teeth. The next one that approached her got a jump kick right in the neck. Once she was able to pull her handcuffs apart, she broke another one’s arm, stealing the knife from his grip, and using that to slash anyone else who approached her. She didn’t just knock them all down one by one, she smashed their faces in, gutted them open and made spines crack 180 degrees. In less than two minutes, every Hydra goon at that party lay slaughtered, with Mother Winter drenched in their blood.

Shark still sat on the floor crying, still hungry and needing attention. He didn’t know what to make of all the bloodshed. If he was scared, that quickly faded when Stephanie picked him up. She gently hushed him with a tight hug, brushing his soft curls with her blood-coated fingers. As he calmed down, and she assessed that the threat was gone, her mind seemed to slip into Mother mode on its own, with few traces of the malfunction remaining.

By the time the guards found the mess in the recreation room, Mother Winter had already taken Shark back to his crib, feeding him on the way until his full stomach put him to sleep. Before she was dragged away by force to reconditioning, she got to give him one quick goodnight kiss, which marked his white cheek with red.

Brock knew something had happened when Pierce called him immediately into his office as soon as he got back.

“What does this have to do with me? I didn’t tell her to do that.” Brock argued, even though he was secretly proud of his girl.

“She went rogue protecting _your_ son. That doesn’t just happen.” Pierce pushed his fingers together and peered at Brock through his black rectangular-rimmed glasses.

“She’s a mom! Isn’t that what she’s supposed to do? Who thought it was a smart idea to push around my kid anyway, huh?”

“You’re pushing it, Rumlow. You’re really pushing it. I’m giving you one last warning. End it, before I have to.”

* * *

 

The final strike came a couple years later, but that didn’t mean either of them had forgotten.

The mission was simple, assassinate the target in his own home and make it look like a suicide, or at least a freak accident. Mother Winter waited behind the shower curtains, with S.T.R.I.K.E outside for backup. They had to play the waiting game until the target came home from work. S.T.R.I.K.E reported the target’s actions from the outside looking in on the living room. She sat in the tub for hours, waiting for the idiot to turn off the damn TV downstairs and come use the shower or even just the toilet.

When she heard footsteps, she stood quietly, armed with thin wires wrapped between her fingers. The target nonchalantly opened the door and unzipped himself. Once she heard the stream of piss hit the toilet water, she pulled back the curtain and leaped out, wrapping the wires around the man’s neck. He was taller than her, so pulling the wires meant bending him backwards, but not enough to get his feet off the ground.

He grabbed at the wires but couldn’t slip his fingers underneath them, so he thrust himself backwards hard enough for her to hit her head on the wall. It stunned her so that she lost some of her grip, allowing him to pull the wires enough for him to slip out. When he tried to punch her, she caught his fist and twisted his wrist backwards until it cracked. Looks like framing it as a suicide might be out of the question. A few more quick blows and he was on his knees, huffing for breath. His head was close enough to the toilet for her to grab him by the hair and WHAM! She cracked both his skull and the porcelain bowl. Finally, he was still.

As she looked over the body, she watched the water mixed with blood spill from the broken toilet onto the tile. It spread quickly over the smooth surface, soaking in the cracks of plaster. Suddenly, she could hear a quiet echo of sobbing. She looked back at the target, good as dead, not making a sound. Where was the crying coming from? It sounded female, young, it called out for someone.

The blood on the tiles, soaking the floor, gathering around the toilet. The sobbing. Her vision blurred and she went light-headed. She looked back in the toilet, cloudy red water barely obscured a small mass of tissue. Dots of blood trailed out of the toilet from the mass to…her.

She looked down at her body, but she didn’t see her leather tactical outfit. She saw a skirt, a blue skirt over a white blouse. A big patch of blood seeped through the skirt, but when she went to touch it, her arms looked different. They were thin and bony. Suddenly, a large pain struck her stomach, throbbing harder until it knocked her to the floor. She knew this pain, it meant a baby was coming.

_“No. No, it’s way too early, please…”_

The sobbing from before, now she was speaking to her.

_“Please, I don’t want to lose this, please…”_

She couldn’t handle this anymore, she crawled away from the toilet, soaking her hands and knees in the red water flooding the bathroom. She inched further and further, but the pleading got louder. When she got a glimpse of the mirror attached to the door, she stopped. There she was, the crying woman, bent over the toilet, clutching to her stomach as blood dripped out of her. She was such a small and fragile thing.

She looked back at her own body, and everything matched the woman in the mirror. The ruined skirt, the tiny body, the white knuckles clenching her stomach. Then, she was even crying the same way.

“Buck!” She choked through her own sobs. That was what she was supposed to scream. That’s what she HAD screamed last time.

Soon there was a loud banging on the door, just like last time. Everything played out just right. He shouts on the other side of the door, and then he breaks it down himself. He looks at her, confused, terrified because she’s crying. She knows she’s disobeyed. She’s not supposed to cry on missions, except to lure in a target. As he scoops her up off the floor, she wraps her arms around his neck.

“I can’t lose the baby…I can’t…!” She cries loudly, clutching the man tighter.

Brock takes a deep breath and carries her out quickly. She’s malfunctioning again, and he knows this is the last time he’ll be allowed to see her again.

“You didn’t lose the baby, Winter. They’re fine. They’re at base, don’t worry about them.” Brock stated firmly.

That wasn’t…That wasn’t what the woman in the mirror had heard. He said it again, assuring her that her babies were okay. They were at base. She was going to see them when they got home. She told him about the woman in the mirror. He shook his head and told her that wasn’t real. She wasn’t real. It was a bad dream, and the techs were going to make sure she never had it again.

* * *

 

Pierce didn’t look at Brock for the first few minutes. He didn’t let him sit down either. He just made him stand there as Pierce finished some paper work and filed it away. When Pierce got up, he went to the window instead of Brock, admiring the view and the birds flying past.

“You know who she is, don’t you?” Pierce asked. Brock didn’t answer.

“If you don’t tell me the truth, you won’t have to time to worry about a letter of resignation.”

Brock squeezed his hips, “I have a few ideas.”

“Give me your best shot. I’ll tell you if you’re right.”

Brock fiddled with his jaw, and crossed his arms, “Captain America.”

Pierce chuckled, “What gave it away?”

“Besides her face? A little bit of everything. The way she walks and fights and how it’s just like she did in the training videos we watched when I first got here. No one knows where Captain America went, and no one knows where Mother Winter came from. You’re the one who told me that she’s older than she looks and that all the Winter Soldiers came from her, even the ones who are probably older than me.”

“How long have you known?”

“Couple of years. Course, the real nail on the head was when she was screaming for some guy ‘Buck.’ Why wouldn’t Captain America be screaming for Bucky Barnes?”

Pierce approached him with his hands behind his back, “You’ve know this, and you’ve never told anyone. Why?”

“Because even the slightest chance of having Captain America back in the world would mean Hydra is in deep shit.”

“And you don’t want that.”

“No, sir. Plus, it’s fun keeping dirty secrets.”

Pierce sternly looked at Rumlow before firmly grasping his shoulder, “I like you, Rumlow. Not just for the work you do, but because you see the world I see. You know why we do what we do and why it’s important to keep Hydra going.”

“Thank you, sir.” Rumlow spouted out by reflex.

“For that, you get to stick around. For now. If I hear even the slightest rumor about you being alone with the Asset, you’re officially out of luck.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good. Hail Hydra.”

“Hail Hydra.” Rumlow exited the office with stiff shoulders. Pierce could be a scary guy, but not scary enough for him to keep his promise. As Rumlow regrouped with the rest of S.T.R.I.K.E, he patted his good friend Rollins on the shoulder and whispered in his ear,

“Take care of her for me.”


	31. The Soda Liters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumlow takes the news of Mother Winter's new pregnancy better than anyone expected.

_2008_

“Don’t be shy, baby. Throw the ball.” Princess cooed at her three-year-old who clutched a small baseball tightly.

“C’mon, King. You can’t hurt your mother, not with her reflexes.” Wagner sat on the gym bench, wiping his forehead with a towel.

“I gotta congratulate you, Wagner,” Wolfe took a seat next to him and patted him on the back, “The kid doesn’t look like an inbred freak at all.”

“Well, we are all genetically perfect, what kind of defect could he inherit?” Baron butted in as he held Duke’s feet down for sit-ups

“I’m still surprised that Director Pierce is letting you keep him.” Duke said, “I guess this means your ‘secret’ love affair didn’t anger him after all.”

“Why would it?” Wolfe scoffed, “We’re all pets to him. He doesn’t care if we have puppies of our own amongst ourselves. It just means more soldiers for him.”

“As long as we remain loyal, he will take of care of us.” Wagner murmured subconsciously as he watched King throw the ball with all his strength at Princess. She caught it no problem, but she hissed at the sting of the catch, praising their boy for his ever growing strength.

In another corner of the gym, Scorpio and Libra also watched the little family scene as they rode the exercise bicycles.

“He’s adorable, isn’t he?” Scorpio smiled at his twin, who gripped the handlebars tighter as his voice crawled under her skin. She rode faster, even though it would get her nowhere.

“We could-“ Scorpio started, but Libra knew what he was going to say.

“Hell no.” She asserted.

“What if Father didn’t give us a choice?”

“I will kill you before I let you give him that idea.”

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal. Maybe he’d even let us make it _in vitro_.”

“Still no.”

“But it would have so much potential! With my brains and your looks, our strength-“

“Stop it!” Libra slapped him, scraping his cheek with nails. She stormed off, throwing her towel over her shoulder. Everyone stared at her, but brushed it off as her being a drama queen.

In the center of the gym were three ropes hooked to the ceiling, with the Seafood Platter pulling themselves up each one.

“Dad, what if I fall?” Shrimp grunted, squeezing the rope tightly between his legs and fingers, hesitant to reach any higher.”

“You hit the ground.” Rumlow said with his hands on his hips, watching from below.

“Ow! I’m slipping!” Catfish hissed at the burning in her palms.

“C’mon, don’t pussy out on me. First one to get to the top and back gets ice cream.” Rumlow figured an incentive would inspire the mercenaries in them.

Back on the benches, Wolfe scoffed, “Those kids are never going to be battle ready if the Chief Mistress keeps spoiling them.”

No one else said anything, they just shifted their jaws, boiling in their envy. However, their moods lifted the moment Mother Winter arrived, patting down her wet hair with a towel. Her thirteen-year-olds, the Shakespeare Company, followed doing the same.

“I don’t see why we had to shower if we’re just going to get sweaty again.” Desdemona grumbled.

“They don’t want us to get blood on the equipment.” Lear said, “Or at least not other people’s blood. If you’re not us, you can get sick from that.”

“But I didn’t even get any blood on me! Macbeth and Hamlet did all the dirty work this time!” Desdemona complained.

Mother Winter rubbed both of their heads to tell them that they did a good job, too. As long as the mission was a success, and the commanders were satisfied, she knew they did well.

Brock looked her up and down as she came his way. He crossed his arms and bit his lip as he saw the small bump on her abdomen. He nodded at her and looked away, muttering,

“Winter.”

“Agent Rumlow.” She politely greeted, joining him in watching their little ones struggle several feet above them.

“Oooh, looks like the Chief Mistress has been replaced.” Wolfe grinned, judging from the look on Rumlow’s face that he wasn’t responsible for her current baby bump.

“I wouldn’t say that, just because there’s a new father doesn’t mean she doesn’t prefer him anymore.” Duke argued.

“No, but here’s the thing…” Baron licked his lips, dripping with gossip, “…the new guy is his _best friend_ , Agent Rollins.”

“Well, that’s what he gets,” Wolfe shrugged, “for thinking he could keep Mama all to himself.”

Shrimp fell off the rope before he could finish, but Mother Winter caught him before he hit the ground, to Rumlow’s dismay.

* * *

 

Every now and then, Rollins snuck Mother Winter out in his truck instead of returning her to her bunk. She went along with it for the prospect of eggs and bacon for breakfast. She’d hide under the tarp with all his gear until they got to his apartment, where he’d help her down. He kept his arm around her as they passed by the other tenants.

Once he opened his door, she walked into apartment before he turned on the lights. She could see Jack fiddling with his key at the door, so when someone wrapped their arms around her waist and whispered, “You miss me, babe?” in her ear, she jumped and tried to ram her elbow into their head, but their fist caught her arm in time.

“Woah, hun.” The lights turned on, revealing Rumlow smiling at her while still keeping her in his grip.

“You.” She softened up, but still tried to pull free.

“You knew I wasn’t going to let that jackass keep me from my girl.” He kissed her shoulder and rubbed her stomach, “Hey Jack, how far along is she?”

“Three months.” Rollins said as he put away his coat.

“I can tell,” Rumlow spun her around and grabbed her chin, inspecting her cheeks above her mask, “She’s got the glow.”

Rollins heated up some leftovers as Rumlow took Mother Winter to the couch, mounting her and pulling her mask off to kiss her.

“You’re not allowed to-mmmm…” Mother Winter remembered the new rule Pierce gave her about being with Rumlow, but Rumlow cut off her protests with a deep kiss each time.

“The rule is,” Rumlow rubbed his hand down the curves of her body, “That I’m not allowed to be alone with you.” He nudged over in Rollin’s direction, “We’re not alone, are we?”

“If the Commander…” her voice halted when he bit the place on her neck that felt good, making her eyes well up, trying to spit out the rest of her order.

“Don’t worry about Pierce.” Rumlow unzipped her leather suit and groped her chest over her bra, “He won’t find out. You’re already knocked up. I can cum in you as much as I want, and it won’t make a difference.”

“No…” She teared up, pushing his chest away.

Brock sat up and exhaled, clicking his tongue, “I didn’t want to do this but…You deserve this.”

For a few seconds, she stalled, and then she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him down to keep kissing him.

“I thought you didn’t like Whore mode.” Rollins commented, eating his dinner on the bar.

“Over the years, I’ve come to appreciate all her split personalities,” Rumlow said holding Mother Winter close. He sat up again and pulled her into his lap, slipping her suit off of her shoulders and holding her head close as he kissed her harder. She wrapped herself around him, pressing their chests together, moaning into his kisses.

She clung to him as he carried her over to the bedroom. He threw her down, and she bounced into the pillows with a small gasp. She crawled to him like a tigress, and unbuckled his belt. He pushed her back only to pull off her boots and slip her arms out of her sleeves. When he pulled down pants, she pulled his cock out through the slit in his briefs and sucked, getting it nice and wet in her mouth. He pushed the hair out of her face and clutched tightly to her scalp, watching her pleasure him.

Rollins came in and pulled off his shirt, and took the spot right behind her. He pulled her catsuit down until it was gathered at her knees. He pulled down her high-waisted panties and smacked her ass playfully, making her whimper with Brock’s dick still in her mouth. Rumlow pulled her sports bra off of her, letting her large breasts dangle freely.

“You’re gonna need more than a little spit for what we’re going to do to you.” Rumlow growled in her ear. Rollins pulled lubricant from his bedside drawer and squirted it directly on her ass, making her gasp at how cold it felt. He crouched behind her, holding her waist with one hand and gently fingering her asshole with the other. Brock threw off the rest of his clothes and crawled on the bed with them, kissing up her neck and grabbing handfuls of her breasts. He rubbed his shaft around her, teasing her opening and gently thrusting against her pelvis.

Once she was ready, Rollins pulled out his own erection and slid himself into her ass, making her sit in his lap. She groaned loudly, whimpering as she gently bobbed herself up and down. He grabbed her thighs to keep her steady, making sure she never slipped off of him, no matter how hard she jerked. Rumlow held her waist, and pressed up against them so that she was sandwiched between them. Just when she felt like she could take no more, Rumlow thrust his cock in her, locked lips with her, filling all her holes.

They both thrust against her in rhythm, keeping her truly trapped. Rollins bit the nape of her neck while Brock pressed against her clit in just the right way, sending a rush of chills through her heated body. Satisfaction bubbled up in her like never before, and she fell back, landing on Rollin’s chest, but squeezing Rumlow’s hair as her painful moan turned into a growl. She heaved like she was losing air, and soon she blacked out. Looks like Whore mode wasn’t insatiable after all.

* * *

 

Brock was right there with three cigars when Rollin’s litter arrived. As the doctors cleaned up inside, the two men waited outside.

“There we go, two pinks and a blue.” Brock had brought three of each, just in case, so he lit up one of the leftovers for himself, “You got names yet.”

“Mm, I’m naming them after different types of soda.” Jack shrugged, “Not too dumb, but still nothing anyone would take seriously.”

“But you can you really picture yourself screaming ‘Coke! Pepsi! Watch my six!’” Brock asked.

“I think there was a guy called Pepsi at the Academy,” Rollins blew a ring of smoke, “But I’m not going with those. The little blonde girl? She looks like a Fanta. The brown-haired girl with my eyes? Sprite. And the boy-“

“Pibb.” Brock guessed.

Rollins went quiet for a moment, “You know, I was going to go with Mountain Dew, but Pibb just works so much better.”

 


	32. Treatment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky bonds with the youngest of the Winter Soldiers, and Hydra reveals their secrets to making loyal members.

“Did you have fun?” Natasha asked, already in her pajamas and cotton robe when Bucky came back from the bar. She stood there like a mother scolding her son for staying past curfew. He still felt a tipsy, but it was fading quickly.

“Got into a fight.” He mumbled.

“I know.” She grabbed a tablet off of his desk and held it up. The news showed the broken window reflecting the blue and red lights from the cop cars that arrived after he left. Those who had regained consciousness explained to the reporter that a fight broke out and that Captain America was involved. No one claimed to know what had set him off. Fortunately, the reporter added that a woman at the scene stated that the man who instigated the fight was _not_ Captain America himself, but a “drunk copycat looking to stir some trouble.”

Bucky smiled, taking a not-so-wild guess at who the woman was that blurred the story. Natasha was not so amused.

“I know how much Stephanie means to you,” She said, “But you can’t be reckless like this. People look up to you.”

“Then why is it so easy for them to talk shit about her?” Bucky scowled.

“You can’t let them get to you, James.” Natasha shook her head, “They will never be satisfied. Still, if you keep acting like this, you’re going to scare more than just a few drunkards. People might turn against you, too.”

“And then what?” Bucky crossed his arms, “You’ll keep me locked up? Thinking a TV and a meal plan is enough to call it humane?”

“It’s a temporary measure, and it’s better than what everyone else is offering.”

They went silent. Bucky took the tablet from her and pulled up the security footage to his bedroom.

“They’re not asleep yet? It’s 11:00.” Bucky watched them build towers with the tinker toys Tony must have given them. He was pleased to see that even with all his mistrust in those kids, he still let them play with them, even though they could turn the wooden sticks into chivs if they really tried.

“They said they can’t without their milk. We tried warming up some for them, but they want their mother’s milk.” Natasha sighed, “Not even Strucker’s willing to share the story on that.”

“I’ll talk to them.” Bucky handed the tablet back and swiped his key card to enter his room. When he walked in, he couldn’t see the Soda Liters anywhere. All it took was the click of the door to send them into their hiding spots in time.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just here to put you to bed.” He said, without taking a step further. It would only scare them more if he started searching the room for them. Still, no one moved. He couldn’t even hear a hint of breathing. Not bad, for their age.

“I know that you were taught that I’m a bad man, but the truth is, I’m an old friend of your mother’s. I have pictures to prove it if that’s what it takes.” Bucky wasn’t sure how to negotiate with five-year-olds, but he needed to try. He went to his drawer and pulled out the picture of him and Stephanie at Coney Island. He placed it on the table hoping that they could see it from wherever they were hiding.

“I know she looks a lot different now, but if you look really closely, that’s her. That’s your Mama.” Bucky took a seat on the bed. By pure luck, the little brown-haired girl, Sprite, crawled out from under the bed to see the picture for herself. She watched Bucky carefully as she approached the picture, as if she was trying to sneak treasure away from a sleeping monster.

“It’s okay, take it.” He smiled at her warmly.

She snatched it quickly, and touched the woman in the photo, “Is that really her? She looks so tiny.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes, she used to be tiny, until a scientist made her big.”

The little girl studied the picture, touching it gently. Bucky had no idea what was going on until her eyes welled up and she started crying.

“I want Mama to come back…” She whimpered. Bucky quickly pulled her in for a tight hug, and by miracle, she let him. As she bawled into his chest, he heard sniffling in other parts of the room, and soon the other two ran towards him in tears and hugged him as well.

“It’s okay. You can cry about it. It’s going to be okay…” He patted all of them on the back, letting his own tears fall.

* * *

 

“Well shit, that’s the last of the reserves.” Scorpio said as he and Libra dropped the last milk tablets into their glasses of liquor.

“The first time I drank this, I had just enlisted,” Dr. Reinhardt poured himself a glass and sniffed it, “It was bland, immature, but I had a hunch. I bought a case.”

Scorpio waited for his dad to take a sip before he drank his, but Libra was not so considerate.

“Ten dollars seemed so expensive back then, before you were born,” Dr. Reinhardt explained, to both his children and their guest strapped to a machine in front of a spiraling screen, “and now one bottle costs over two thousand. Goes to show you, patience is most definitely a virtue. Something we’ve all benefited from.”

Reinhardt put his hands on their shoulders and guided them towards their latest project, making a servant out of the dedicated Agent 33, “I believe in second chances. I want us to work together. I want you to become a valued member of our organization, just like these two here. At your age, you could even become a part of our little family.”

Agent 33 quietly hissed as she suffered through the restraints on her limbs and her eyelids. Her eyes stung from dryness, and her wrists were sore from tugging.

“Surrender…” Reinhardt whispered to her, “…and you will find meaning. Surrender, and you will find release. Take a deep breath. Calm your mind. You know what’s best.”

Scorpio and Libra looked at each other knowingly. This was what they had heard their whole lives. It was necessary. They could never do the work that world needed them to do if they resisted as this woman did.

“What’s best is you comply,” Reinhardt touched his daughter’s cheek once before focusing entirely on the agent, “Compliance will be rewarded. Are you ready to comply, Agent 33?”

She huffed and spat through gritted teeth, “I will never work for Hydra.”

“I expected it would be a long night.” Reinhardt took another sip from his drink, “Why I decided to treat myself.”

Reinhardt turned to his loyal assistant, “Mr. Bakshi, let’s go again.”

“Where do start? At the beginning?” Bakshi asked smugly.

“Like the song says…” Dr. Reinhardt jested.

“A very good place to start!” Scorpio interjected. Libra just rolled her eyes and helped Bakshi with the controls.

“Indeed, my boy.” Reinhardt said, “You and I both know the Faustus method takes time, and we’ve got plenty.”

Libra chuckled to herself. They could have taught their father the method in the first place, seeing as where he was locked in prison for decades, they had seen it time and time again. She still remembered Dr. Faustus himself, the nice Russian man who picked her up and bounced her on his knee every time he came to visit Mama.

“What beautiful children from such a beautiful mother.” He used to say, right before he made her go to sleep so he could treat her. Sometimes Mama would scream, and she would be worried, but someone always assured her that Mama could take it and it was necessary she go through it. Besides, Libra always enjoyed snuggling up to Mama afterwards to make her feel better.

* * *

 

Bucky quietly shut the door once the children were sound asleep. Having a good cry managed to tucker them out and put them to sleep with no hot milk required. He smiled when he saw them all huddle close to each other for warmth, seeing Stephanie in every one of them.

“You’re a miracle worker, Barnes.” Natasha relaxed on the armchair, playing games on her tablet.

“You’re still here? I thought you went to bed.” Bucky collapsed on the couch, his current sleeping place while the Soda Liters occupied his room.

“I wanted to see if you could do it.” She shrugged, “Stephanie would be proud of you.”

Once again, things were silent, until Bucky finally said, “I can’t apologize enough for what I did to you…when I found out…”

“James,” Natasha stopped him, “I forgive you, okay? And like I said, if you ever touch me again anyway, you’re going to have matching arms again.”

“Why are you so keen on helping me anyway?” Bucky asked, “I mean, this is important for all of us, but you’ve gone out of your way more than everyone else. Any particular reason?”

“Maybe I just like you,” Natasha smirked, “or maybe…I just want something better for those kids.”

Suddenly, there was loud crying from the bedroom, not just from one, but all three of the children. Bucky leaped off the couch and swiped his card, taking a few tries to get it to work. As soon as he was in, he turned on the lights to see the children squirming with faces squeezed so tightly in pain, they were turning red.

“What happened, what’s wrong?!” Bucky ran to them and held them close.

“It hurts…!” Pibb groaned as he clutched his chest tightly. He felt their foreheads, which were burning and drenched in sweat.

“James, get over here!” Natasha called back from the living room.

“I’m a little busy!” Bucky shouted back.

Natasha ran in with the tablet, displaying the security feeds from the rooms where the other Winter Soldiers were being held. They were all going crazy, banging on the walls, and collapsing on the floor, screaming and groaning in serious pain. Even Baron was clutching his chest tightly, struggling to breath.

“Stay here, we’re going to get help.” Bucky tried to comfort the Soda Liters a little longer before joining Natasha in the mad dash to the prison floor. The elevator would take too long, so they took the stairs. On their way, they ran into Tony, who had been woken up by the racket.

“Something’s wrong, get a doctor.” Bucky told Tony.

“They’re on their way, and by the way great show you put on in Hell’s Kitchen, but more importantly, we don’t even have to go in there to find out what’s going on in there. J.A.R.V.I.S! What does it look like? A plague? A bio-attack? Some bad lunch?” Tony said all in one breath.

“It appears, Sir, that everyone’s symptoms indicate addiction withdrawal, but from what substance I cannot specify.”

Natasha looked at Bucky. The milk. They didn’t just need it to go to sleep. They needed it to keep to keep their bodies from detoxing. Mother Winter didn’t just nurse her children for bonding. It kept them drugged, and with the right drugs, Hydra could make anyone do anything they wanted.


	33. Where'd You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first look at Mother Winter's road to recovery and freedom.

_The Day Hydra Fell_

Mother Winter knew she was defying orders by saving Captain Barnes, but she couldn’t ignore how his words would flash pictures into her mind. His voice, his face…it was too familiar to let go. He called her by a name, a real name. It was probably a trick, but it was worth keeping him alive. She dived after him and pulled him by his metal arm to the damp sand. Soon, S.H.I.E.L.D would come find him, so she couldn’t wait around until he woke up, even though she had so many questions for him.

She knew that her commanders would come for her, too, and then she’d wake up in the machine or in Roman’s arms, and everything that was clear to her now would be fuzzy and hiding in the back of her mind, just out of her reach of understanding. That’s where everything hid from her; trying to remember was like trying to watch a muted television through static.

Her orders were to return to base once Captain Barnes was dead. Since he was not dead, maybe her skin wouldn’t burn and her chest wouldn’t clench if she if she remained outside longer, since she wasn’t directly disobeying the order.

_But the children need you._

She had to go back, she always went back, for them. She had to be their mother.

_“Your name is Stephanie Grace Rogers Barnes.”_

She had to find out if Captain Barnes was telling the truth. She already spared his life because something inside her believed him. This was her only chance, but the children…

“The children…” She squeezed her temples and forced words out of herself, “The children…are big now. T-they can take care of themselves.”

_They need you._

“No!” Her muscles weakened, forcing her knees into the sand, as she crawled her way along the shore, clutching to a large rock, letting the waves crash against her.

_You have to think of the children._

“I am...!” She screamed, fighting the burning, “I need to know who I am...before I can be their mother…”

_You just need to be there for them._

“They…they can take care of each other…” She took her knife and dug into her arm, looking for the tracker. She clenched her teeth, hissing as the nerves throbbed. She set her mind on it, making her own mission. When the knife hit the sharp blinking metal device, she pried it out and threw it in the sand.

Freedom, at least for little while. She ran into the forest before anyone came for her.

* * *

 

_“Stephanie Rogers Barnes, the original Captain America who won the heart of the nation, gave her life in service of her country in the winter before the end of the war. Her devoted husband, Bucky Barnes, picked up her shield in her memory, and continues to fight to this day.”_

It must have been fate that Smithsonian Museum was holding an exhibit on Captain America at the same time that she was looking for information about her. A short trip to Goodwill gave her the right civilian clothes she needed for the little money she had on her. A faded green V-neck with a dark blue hoodie and light blue jeans looked unspectacular enough, especially with a black beanie.

So now she knew why Captain Barnes dropped his shield and gave up the fight, he really did love this Stephanie person. There were pictures of them together all over the walls. The exhibit was split in half, with Stephanie’s work with the Howling Commandoes in the beginning and Barnes’ work with the Avengers towards the end. Peggy Carter was apparently once a good friend of hers, but all Mother Winter could recollect were a handful of assassination reports marked FAILED. A small section at the front gave details on the Barnes’s lives before Captain America existed. They were married in 1938, Catholic, he worked full-time, she stayed home. No children.

If this was really her, it was a past life she couldn’t get back. Captain Barnes wasn’t a threat anymore, but others were. A house with kids, scheduling meetings and dinner parties, that kind of life was impossible. There was work to be done. The world needed her to set it in the right…

No…no, that was Hydra talking. She saw the news. Hydra was gone. Everything was out in the public, including her files. Still, no one looked twice at her in this disguise. Her children had spread out.

“But they can take care of themselves.” She repeated to herself, with tears in her eyes, “They’re big now.”

The gift shop had a lot of little trinkets, so with the last of her money, she got some plastic rings with the Captain America shield on them as well as a spiral notebook. The rings were for her youngest children, a present for them when she saw them again, and the notebook was for her. She didn’t want any of her thoughts to fade and be forgotten; even her dreams could mean something.

She couldn’t stick around and take a seat on a bench and wait for memories to come back. A lot of people were looking for her. It killed her that she couldn’t let her babies know that she was alright and she would come back, but this was something she had to do, for all of them.

She walked to the trainyard, frequently checking behind her. She didn’t have a destination in mind; she just needed to get away. Carrying nothing but a grocery tote bag full of her few belongings, she hopped on the first freight she saw with an open door.

It wasn’t until she got a moment’s rest that the headaches hit, throbbing from all sides of her brain. The rhythmic pain spread to her throat, forcing her to cough without stopping until she couldn’t breathe. She crawled to the door, throwing it open even though the train was in motion. She gasped for air, feeling a blockage in her throat crawling out. She pulled her hair out of the way before she vomited out of the car. The rush of blood to her face made her eyes water. She tried to steady her breathing, but her muscles tightened, pushing more out of her stomach until there was only phlegm left.  When she finally gained control of herself, her limbs were shaking and limp. She was barely strong enough to close the rusty door and crawl back to her corner. At least now she could finally go to sleep. She put her notebook next to her, to remind her to write something as soon as she woke up.

When she came to, the freight had already stopped, but she wasn’t sure for how long. She looked at her notebook, but she couldn’t remember dreaming about anything. It had been an uneventful slumber, but maybe that’s what she needed right now.

This new trainyard was empty, and judging from the sign on the rail station, she was in Mississippi. She thought about whether she knew of any places to stay, but nothing came up. Still, she had to keep moving.

_The first rule of going on the run is don’t run, walk, and walk with purpose._

That voice…it was a female voice. It was….her _own_ voice. She was talking to…a classroom of children, all little girls, with disassembled guns on tables in front of them.  She quickly grabbed her notebook and pen and started scribbling. The memory came to her in pictures, so she drew pictures. A classroom with no window, a hanging lamp, three columns, five rows of desks, little girls with braids, and ponytails, and buns. And just like that, the memory faded. She looked down at the messy drawing, and there it was again, permanently captured on something she could touch.

The train station was far from the nearest town, so she made her way across the gray rocky path surrounded by dry patches of grass. The heat beating down on her made her take off her jacket and tie it around her waist. Her throat begged for water, and her stomach rumbled.  She was relieved to see a gas station until she remembered spent all her money in D.C. She eyed the trash bins next to the door pulled off the lid, scrounging for discarded leftovers. To her delight, she found three water bottles that weren’t quite finished. She gulped them all down even though the water was warm and tasted of backwash. Unfortunately, all the plastic chip bags and hot dog containers were completely licked clean. She shrugged, figuring that she could wait until she got to town to find food.

From there, she hitchhiked a ride to town from a nice old lady who needed a listening ear.

“So my daughter McKayla is in town for the weekend with her family, but her husband’s ex-wife, Nancy, is upset because she brought her stepchildren along, and Nancy is saying ‘You can’t do that. They’re not supposed to leave the state.’ So my McKayla says to her, ‘I’m taking my children to see their grandmother, do you expect me to just leave yours at the house?’ but you see Nancy is paranoid that my daughter is trying to take her children away from her for good. Now personally, what I think, what _I_ believe _,_ is that if Nancy is so worried about losing her kids to my daughter, then she should stop going to bars to find a new boyfriend and spend more time with her own kids. Now, I’m not saying she shouldn’t find a new man, because believe me, I know, I was divorced for three years and it was not a good time for me or McKayla. What I’m saying is that if she wants to find a good man, she shouldn’t be looking in bars, she should be looking at the single dads at her son’s baseball games. I’ve gone to his baseball games, and I’ve seen some real lookers there, like this one man, his name is Tom, I think…No, it’s not Tom, it’s Eric. Anyway, Eric is very polite and has a good government job and his son even goes to the same school as Nancy’s son, so if they haven’t met before, it’s because she hasn’t been seeing the good things in front of her.” The old woman spared no details.

“So how often does Nancy get the kids?” Mother Winter asked.

“Nancy gets them for two weeks every month, but they’re trying to fix the schedule now because Nancy wants to move to Jackson. She wants to keep things every two weeks, but McKayla and Mitchell, my son-in-law, Nancy’s ex-husband, are telling her that Jackson is a four hour drive which will be difficult to make every other Friday. I don’t know what they’ll agree on, but I hope they agree to something soon, because it has been so stressful on the kids, and not just Nancy’s kids, but McKayla’s too.”

Mother Winter was almost envious of this woman. She could remember everyone’s names and relations and know what was going on in their lives instantaneously. It sounded exhausting, but it must feel so satisfying and be on top of things like that.

“Well, this is my stop.” Mother Winter unbuckled herself at a stoplight downtown.

“You take care, dear! Get home safe!” The old woman smiled and waved at her as she drove off.

Mother Winter…Stephanie smiled back at the warm sentiment. It almost brought her to tears to receive such kindness from a stranger. She doubted the rest of the trip would be so pleasant. She needed a place to stay, and she had no money, no phone, and every intelligence agency in the country looking for her. A local church billboard gave her a few options.

By nightfall, she checked herself into a women’s shelter under an alias. The women at the front kindly nodded in understanding as Stephanie shyly admitted she didn’t have a driver’s license or government ID.

“Would you like us to contact any authorities?”

“No, that’s okay…” She tightly clutched her elbows.

“Do you have any children with you?”

Stephanie shook her head, “They’re big now…they can take care of themselves.”

“Here’s our list of counseling services. If you need anything, just ask.” The woman handed her a sheet of paper with a checklist of services: domestic violence, sexual violence, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, depression, and others.

“Thank you.” Stephanie tucked the piece of paper into her pocket, “I’ll keep that in mind.”


	34. One of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jemma Simmons goes undercover in Hydra, will she be let into the Winter Soldiers' world?

As far as Hydra knew, Jemma Simmons had been under the influence of Mother Winter’s milk for a few months. Under Garrett’s orders, Ward had been slipping drops of it in his team’s coffee.

“Perhaps you’re in a litter after all.” Garrett patted his shoulder, “If those tech wizards could convince her you were her son, I’m sure they can do the same for your friends.”

“They’re not going to start acting funny, are they? Coulson will notice.” Ward said.

“Don’t worry about it. Just don’t add too much before they’re ready. That stuff’s stronger than moonshine.” Garrett warned.

“I remember.” Ward packed the milk in his satchel, “I passed out the first time.”

Unfortunately, the secret was out before Ward could ever get past a few drops. Still, Coulson knew he could use this to let Simmons go undercover. All she had to do was convince the heads of Hydra that the milk worked and she ready to obey them.

“But sir, what if I run into one of those Winter Soldiers?” She asked, nervously clutching her resume.

“Ward couldn’t have had any contact with them while in custody. They won’t know your secret. Act like you’re one of them.”

Jemma bit her lips. How could she possibly act like one of them? Were they all like Ward? How could she possibly understand what that was like?

Her first day was nerve-wrecking until she actually got to work. Everyone else seemed too concerned with their own business to keep an eye on her. Even her supervisor just gave her samples to analyze and left her to her business. It made her less nervous about keeping her cover, but still wary about how to go about making friends like Coulson wanted her to.

After her first week, what she expected to be a terrifying adventure in a land full of mad scientists cackling as they tortured people in cages had fallen into a routine of substance analyses and coffee breaks. If anything, that made things more disturbing. She smiled at guards and co-workers, but wondered if they knew about Stephanie Barnes. They should by now, and yet they continued to work here. Ordinary doctors and scientists knew that a woman was raped for decades, but they just saw her as an asset for them, as if she wasn’t human enough to deserve sympathy. Still, she had to put her judgments aside and join the circle.

One evening, on her way out, she had her first encounter with an H baby. The elevator door opened up on the main floor, and she saw a teenage boy throwing up in a trash bin. The poor thing couldn’t have been older than 18. The lights had already dimmed as everyone else had gone home, was he waiting for someone?

“Excuse me, are you alright?” She walked over and asked in her friendliest tone.

The boy wiped his lips on his sleeve, “Yeah, I just got a little woozy.”

“Are you here by yourself? Do you need me to call someone for you?”

“He’s with me.” A stern feminine voice barked through the lobby, as Desdemona marched out of the shadows.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was just trying to help-“Jemma stopped as soon as she turned, expecting a grown woman but seeing a young girl instead. She looked the same age as the boy.

“He’s not yours to worry about, Dr. Simmons.” Mona took her coat and wrapped it around Lear’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” Jemma was startled that the girl knew her name.

“No, but we were supposed to, once Grant thought you were plastic enough, but that backfired, didn’t it?” Mona wrapped an arm around Lear protectively.

“E-Excuse me?” Jemma stuttered.

“Cut the deer in the headlights act, I’ve seen it all before. You were one of Grant Ward’s teammates at S.H.I.E.L.D, and now you think you can start fresh here because you’ve had a few of my mother’s White Russians. Let me make this clear right now, no matter what Grant told you, you will never be one of us. So get comfortable in the basement lab, because if you think you’re going to make a name for yourself here, you’ve got another thing coming.” Mona shot darts out of her eyes before storming off with Lear in tow.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Lear moaned once they were out of the building.

“You’re feeling sick again? Did something happen? Has your head been hurting?” Mona’s voice went gentle as she concentrated on him.

“I’m fine. It passed.” Lear kept himself tucked in her coat.

“Here.” Mona pulled a milk pouch out of her bag.

“No, I couldn’t.” Lear pushed it away. He couldn’t possibly take hers now that they were scarce.

“You need it more than me.” She insisted.

“That’s not true.”

“Fine,” Mona conceded, “We’ll share it, okay?”

Lear nodded, took the first sip after she stuck the little plastic straw through.

* * *

 

Back at the office building, Jemma was still too stunned to move. Not only did a Winter Soldier just recognize her, but let her know that she was onto her. Was her cover already blown? Were they tracking her? How much did they know already? She didn’t hear the sound of heels quickly approaching her.

“Oh dear, I am so sorry you had to hear that. Mona’s never been one for manners, but she’s going through a really hard time right now.” Libra stood next to Jemma, spooking her out of her daze, “Yesterday, they found her father’s body in an electric harness underwater. One of his patients turned against him.”

“That’s horrible.” Jemma inspected the woman next to her. This one she recognized from even before the Hydra leak, “Excuse me, are you…Leslie Whitehall?”

“Oh darling, you don’t have to use that name anymore. Everyone in the country knows it’s really Libra.” She smiled at her.

“It’s an honor, Ms. Reinhardt, truly.” Jemma stuck out her hand.

“No need to be formal, just Libra is fine.” The tall blonde shook her hand and winked at her.

“Sorry, I-I just thought it was more professional.” Jemma was even more caught off-guard. One Winter Soldier yelled at her and now another was winking at her?

“Honey, relax. Once we’ve clocked out, you can call me whatever you want.” Libra pushed a strand of hair behind Jemma’s ear. Now this one was touching her? “Oh, were you headed to your car? I’ll walk with you. It’s dangerous out there at this time of night.”

Jemma stiffened. Was she trying to be friendly? Should she let her be friendly? She had to get into their good graces, but what if she was being too reckless?

“Actually, I take the bus.” Jemma said with an awkward laugh.

Libra gasped, “Oh darling, no. Those things are filthy. I’ll give you a ride, don’t worry.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“I won’t take no for an answer. C’mon.” Libra grabbed Jemma’s shoulder. Jemma went along with her, seeing no other choice. They walked to a limousine waiting at the corner.

“Really, you’re too kind.” Jemma tried to pull away, but Libra just pulled her closer, her head just hitting Libra’s shoulder.

“It’s least I can do. We Hydra ladies need to look out for each other.” Libra looked down and smiled at her with her cherry red lips.


	35. Drifting

_“I had him on the ropes.”_

_“I know you did.”  Stephanie said, but quickly turned around when she heard the sound of machine guns powering up. In the misty air, she saw the soldier preparing to fire._

_“Get down!” She screamed, pushing Bucky behind her and holding up her shield._

_The blast knocked them both to the ground and made a giant hole in the train. Her ears were ringing painfully, and her back stung from hitting the wall, but she quickly got on her knees and crawled to her shield, just moments before Bucky could reach it. She rose to her feet, firing at the soldier, but she couldn’t hit him before he took his next shot._

_She flew out of the train, her shield slipping out of her hand, but caught the railing just in time. She tried to inch along the metal bar, but the damage had knocked the bolts out of one end. From here, she heard a few more gunshots and a big thud. To her relief, Bucky rushed back to come to her aid._

_“Steph! Hang on!” He called out, climbing along the sturdier rails. She carefully moved along the weak railing, getting ready to swing before it gave out._

_“Grab my hand!” Bucky cried out desperately, like he could feel fate working against them._

_She threw her hand out. She wasn’t close enough. The railing didn’t hold. Her heart stopped in the moment before the fall._

_“BUCKY!”  She wailed on the way down._

Stephanie jolted awake. She peeled herself away from the sweat-soaked sheets and reached for her notebook. By habit, she drew as much as she could remember. That was definitely Captain Barnes with her, even if his hair was different. In the dream it was styled with gel, but last time she saw him, it was cut like most men wear their hair these days. His coat was blue and had two columns of buttons. As she saw it on the paper, she realized it was the same one he wore at their last encounter on the Helicarrier.

“He was trying to make me remember…” She whispered to herself, but not too loudly or else she would wake the others. She was lucky to get the bottom bunk on the bed next to the window since she got enough sunlight to see the paper before the lights turned on.

The LED clock read 6:30a.m, and an hour before the mandatory wake up time. The shelter was strict about schedules and curfews, but that was nothing new to her. As long as she did her chores, didn’t complain about the food, and didn’t make a lot of noise, the staff mostly left her alone. The other women who had children or worked all night were more likely to butt heads with the volunteers, as she discovered over the several shelters in several cities.

She only stayed at each shelter for a week or two, whether it was specifically a battered women’s shelter or a general homeless shelter. She knew when she was overstaying her welcome and walked out without being prompted. After using every shelter available in the city, she would hitch a ride to the next one.

For money, she could usually find work busing tables or bagging groceries. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for food, clothes, and bus tickets. Sometimes, she considered saving up for a car or an apartment, but then she remembered why she couldn’t have anything permanent. If the wrong person found her license plate number or her address, she would be dead, or worse, pulled back into the hands of Hydra.

Still, sometimes she needed somewhere to isolate herself, away roommates and co-workers. Memories picked the most inconvenient times to come back to her. One time as she was carrying a bag of groceries to an old woman’s car, she got hit with images of herself strangling a man with her bare hands. She dropped the bag, and eggs splattered all over the ground. A jar of tomato sauce broke over her foot and spilled everywhere. Luckily the woman was kind enough not to scold her, but Stephanie had to replace the goods and a take a pay cut that week.

They didn’t always come in pictures, sometimes they came back as other senses. The smell of blood. The touch of leather gloves squeezing her thighs. Her children calling for her. Their little voices brought her to tears, and she squeezed the plastic rings.

_“I’m going to save you. I promise.”_

That voice was her own. She said it to her first twins. She saw the metal vault and felt the chilly winter air. She saw the plastic tray and the metal bowl of broth. She had Roman and Charity on each of her breasts, such beautiful innocent creatures, with no idea of the life ahead of them. They had the reddest of hair…who did they get that from? Johann Schmidt may have had a red skull, but his hair was brown. What color was her mother’s hair? Or her father’s?

“ _I’m going to save you. I promise.”_

When she said that, she was still Stephanie Barnes. That may have been the last time she felt like Stephanie Barnes. She was still Stephanie Barnes the first time she was raped. She was still Stephanie Barnes when she went into labor with the children the Red Skull put in her, and yet, when she heard her first son’s cry muffled behind glass, she felt…glad. For a brief moment, something in her new hell made her smile. Her son was healthy, and so was the son that quickly followed him. However, then she got scared, not for herself, but for the babies. Red Skull wanted to make them the perfect soldiers, but Stephanie Barnes only wanted to protect them. She didn’t care how they were made. She looked at these boys who resembled the worst man she had ever known and told them,

_“I’m going to save you. I promise.”_

Stephanie used the library computer to do some research. According to Hydra’s leaked files, Roman and Charity Schmidt were born in December of 1945. That was almost 70 years ago. She failed them and all the children that followed them. Hydra had turned her children into weapons for their own gain, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. What good could she do for them now? She could still raise the little ones, but she was running out of time. Every day, they got bigger and learned more, and she couldn’t be there to help them.  How could she teach them right from wrong after everything she had been forced to do?

At least she knew she wasn’t alone. Some of the shelters had support groups or led her to the support groups at community centers.  She sat in on several meetings for abuse, addiction, and several mental disorders. Most of the time, she just listened to other people. They shared all the times they felt helpless, or how they felt it was their own fault they were stuck in the situation they were in. They also shared the steps they were taking to get better, or when they relapsed and felt worse than before.

She wanted to help them all, but there was nothing she could do except hold their hands and listen to them.  That was all anyone could do for her, too, and yet sometimes, that was enough.


	36. Detoxification

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watching the consequences of drug withdrawal gives someone a change of heart.

The Avengers Tower’s prison floor became a hospital wing overnight. Even the Soda Liters joined their siblings, even though it was extremely difficult to get the smallest one to trust the doctors.

“No!” Pibb sobbed , “I don’t wanna go!”

“But Pibb, it’s okay. The doctor will make you feel better.” Bucky tried to coax him out of the locked bathroom, but that only made him scream louder.

“I hate the doctor!” He curled into a ball, squeezing his upset stomach, “I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!”

Bucky jumped back. He knew a lot of kids were afraid of doctors, but that reaction felt extreme. Sadly, he wasn’t that surprised. Hydra was filled with whitecoats that shouldn’t be trusted.

“Mr. Bucky, a lot of the time, when Mama goes to the doctor, she yells really loud.” Fanta pulled on his shirt, “Is it gonna hurt?”

“It’ll hurt more if you don’t go.” Bucky explained, “It might hurt a little, but sometimes, that means that you’re getting better.”

“Are we sick?  Daddy said we’re not supposed to get sick because we’re special.” Fanta asked.

“Daddies are wrong about a lot of things.” Bucky sighed, crossing his arms. If he couldn’t talk Pibb into coming out of the bathroom, then he would have to try something else. He knew from years of being married to Stephanie that sometimes for their own good, you just can’t let the stubborn people win.

“Okay, then. You can stay in there.” Bucky picked up a napping Sprite off of the bed and took Fanta’s hand, “We’ll just go by ourselves then, and because Sprite and Fanta are so brave, they’ll get ice cream afterwards.”

“Are you serious?!” Fanta jumped gleefully.

“Yeah, of course.” Bucky smiled back. He stopped just outside the door, saying loudly, “Bye bye, Pibb. See you later!”

“Is he really not coming with us?” Fanta whimpered, looking back.

“Well if he doesn’t want to go, I can’t make him. He’s just not brave enough yet.” Bucky continued his way to the elevator. As they waited for it to show up, he thankfully heard the pattering of little shoes squeaking down the hallway.

“I wanna be brave too!” Pibb yelled as he ran into Bucky’s leg, still sobbing.

“I know you do, big boy. It’s okay.” Bucky picked him up with his free arm and gently shushed him as the boy cried into his shoulder. “Sssh, it’s going to be fine. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

He looked on his other shoulder and saw Sprite still sleeping soundly. I guess it took a lot to wake her up.

“Mr. Bucky, my stomach’s hurting again.” Fanta moaned and clutched onto his leg.

“It’s going to be okay. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

* * *

 

When they finally arrived on the floor, everything was unusually quiet. There was no TV playing or chit chat at all, just the cacophonous beeping of several heart monitors. The air smelled of citrus and rubbing alcohol. All the Winter Soldiers lay unconscious in two rows of hospital beds along the wall, with IVs in their arms and breathing tubes in their mouths.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked.

“We’ve put them under anesthesia for rapid detoxification.” The doctor explained, “We found traces of several opiates in their systems, so we’re treating them with naltrexone to deter the addiction. They’ll be like this for about 8 hours and if everything checks out, they should show significant progress within 48 hours.”

“But they’re not like regular people. Are you sure it’s safe?” Bucky asked.

“I assure you, Mr. Stark explained everything and their…enhancements have been taken into account. Besides, there will be nurses attending at all times should a problem arise and you will notified directly if necessary.” The doctor asserted.

“So you’re saying you can cure the addiction in 8 hours?”

“Well, addiction is more complicated than that, but the sooner they detox, the better they’ll be in the short run.” The doctor tapped on his clipboard nervously. Bucky didn’t mean to be intimidating, but he didn’t really how aggressive he sounded when he was concerned.

“And it’s safe for 5-year-olds?”

“I’ve successfully detoxed newborns, Mr. Barnes. It’s nothing they can’t handle.”

Fanta clutched Bucky’s leg tighter when she saw her siblings surrounded by wires and machines. Bucky walked the three of them to their assigned beds, and gently lay Sprite and Pibb down and tucked them in with the thin hospital blankets. He helped Fanta into her bed and moved her hair out of her face as she made herself comfortable.

“You’re not scared now, are you?” Bucky asked.

“Nope, because  I’m brave.” She beamed.

“That’s good. I’ll be right here when you wake up, okay?” He assured her.

“Okay.”

“Good girl.”

“Can you give me a kiss for good luck?” Fanta asked with a funny little smile. Bucky snickered.

“Sure thing, kid.” He gave her a small kiss on her forehead and pulled her blanket over her.

Bucky watched as the doctors covered the kids’ faces in plastic masks and put them to sleep. He heard the beeps on their heart monitors get further apart, and he could see the goosebumps form on their skin from the cold iodine. Their arms lay spread at their side as the nurses plugged in the IVs. As soon as he felt sure they were safe, he quickly left the floor, unable to bear the sight of it any longer.

He took the elevator back to his floor, where half of a bottle of whiskey was waiting for him. After two shots, someone knocked at the door. He figured it was Natasha, and kept his breath quiet to make it seem like no one was home.

“I know you’re in there, Cap.” Surprising, it was Tony’s voice. Still, Bucky stayed put on his couch.

“You know I could get in if I wanted to. It’s my place, I know all the codes.” Tony said.

“Then what’s stopping you?” Bucky retorted, swallowing another shot.

After a few moments of silence, there were several beeps and the locks clicked. As Tony entered, Bucky rolled his eyes and took his whiskey with him to his bedroom.

“Cap, c’mon-“ Tony started.

“Just, don’t, don’t call me Cap right now, please?” Bucky groaned, rubbing up his face and fingering through his hair.

“Okay. Barnes. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.” Tony put his hands on his hips, “I know we’ve never been the best of friends, but-“

“Save it, Stark.” Bucky waved his hand at him to shoo him away.

“I saw what you did for those kids-“

“Oh, _now_ they’re kids? They’re not just Winter Soldiers? What made you change your mind, Stark? Was it all the nights they spent crying for their mother? Was it the way they would hide every time someone entered the room, afraid of what we might do to them? Or was it when they looked down at their feet when you said _‘There are no innocent ones?_ ’”  Bucky roughly set his bottle down, “We’re monsters in their eyes, Tony. I hope you see that.”

Tony’s wet eyes shook. He crossed his arms and shifted his jaw, trying to find his words. He scrapped everything he was going to say and started with something else, “So the doctor said-“

“I know what the doctor said.” Bucky cut him off.

“You should trust him, he’s good.” Tony said, “He helped me through my detox.”

Bucky looked away. That was an old tactic, revealing something personal to get the other person to open up. He wasn’t going to fall for it so easily. He just sat on his bed and pulled up the security feed of the hospital wing.

“Or most of them at least. You wanna know how old I was the first time? 16.” Tony walked closer to him, “and then again at 19, and then 22, and then 27, and one more when I was 33.”

“Sounds rough.” Bucky leaned back on his pillows without glancing at him.

“It is,” Tony looked at the screen, “but even I can’t imagine what they’re going through right now.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“I’m letting them out, Barnes.”

Bucky did a double take at that, “What?”

“When they wake up, and the doctor gives them the clean bill,” Tony kept his arms crossed and shrugged, “I’m unlocking the doors. They’ll still live here but they won’t be locked up.”

Bucky stood and seriously stared at Tony, looking for any tricks on his face, “Why?”

“I may not trust all of them, but I trust you.” Tony said genuinely, “if you think they can change, then I’m going to let you try. Consider it a peace offering. Besides…I don’t like seeing kindergarteners in rehab any more than you do.”


	37. Femme Fatale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Simmons gains the opportunity to win a Winter Soldier's trust. (Adapted from S2E3 of Agents of SHIELD)

Jemma arrived home later than usual since Libra purposefully made the driver circle around the block a few times before finally letting her out, and Jemma was too afraid to speak up about it. Libra talked her ear off about hard it was for women in the working world, for both spies and scientists.

“I had to learn how to seduce a man when I was 11. Can you believe it? They told me it was necessary for spy missions when I grew up, but my brother Scorpio only had to learn to play chess and talk about books in every language. Double standards the worst.” Libra uncrossed her legs, bringing one closer to Jemma.

“Indeed.” Jemma smiled politely.

“I know it’s the same for you. I’ve seen your resume, Dr. Simmons. Someone of your caliber should be on the top floor. I could talk to Dr. Whitehall about it, if you want.” Libra batted her eyes.

Jemma knew it wouldn’t be that easy, not without a cost. She didn’t want to be rude, but she didn’t want to walk into a trap either, “You would do that for me? Just like that? You barely know me.” Jemma retorted shyly.

“I can fix that. Would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow? I’d love to know you better.” Libra’s red-lipped smile spread across half her face. Jemma tucked her hair behind her ear and looked out the window to see miraculously that they were in front of her building.

“I-I don’t know, I may have to shuffle my schedule around…” Jemma stammered as she opened the door.

“The Hidashi Grille at 8:00pm, if you’re interested,” Libra pouted, “Please don’t hurt my feelings.”

The driver waited until Jemma entered the apartment complex. She ran up the stairs as if someone was chasing her. She looked over her shoulder and fidgeted with her keys. Only when she locked the door behind her did she feel secure, but only for a second. As she hung her purse and jacket, she heard a thud.  She grabbed her gun out of her purse and slowly approached the kitchen. Did Libra send one of her siblings to her apartment? Was that why she took the long way? How was she supposed to hold her own against a deadly trained-from-birth assassin? Her heart shook in her chest as she turned the corner, aimed to fire.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Coulson leaned against the island with crossed arms. Jemma lowered her aim and breathed again, relaxing her shoulders.

Coulson opened her fridge and pulled out some things, “Sriracha? Beer? That’s all? What kind of diet is that?”

“Well, I also have tea,” Jemma stuck her gun in the back of her skirt, “and if my diet is such a concern, then perhaps dead drops shouldn’t involve fast food.”

“We’ll revisit that protocol,” He grabbed a paper bag and set it on the counter, “I picked up some groceries: steak—grass-fed—fingerling potatoes, kale—organic. It’s basic, but I do good basic. While I cook, you debrief.”

She had a lot to report, but she started with what was easiest, “Do you remember Donnie Gill?”

“From the Academy?” Coulson looked puzzled.

She explained how Donnie, who had once been a brilliant but ordinary student at S.H.I.E.L.D Academy, now had freezing powers that seemed supernatural.

“I mean, I knew he was a gifted scientist, but you’re saying he’s a… _gifted_ scientist.” Phil tried to make sense of it while cutting into his dinner.

“Gill was struck by lightning while holding the device that created the storm. Perhaps the electrical surge fused his system with a freezing agent? Well, it’s just…just speculation.” She leaned back with a heavy sigh, “They’re keeping me sequestered in the downstairs lab. I usually advance much more quickly…” She explained, nervously rubbing her thumbs as she remembered Libra’s offer, “…but they are intent on wasting my talents doing rudimentary biochem and molecular analysis on blind samples.”

“It’s not about your intellect. Have you made friends?” Coulson asked. She groaned and sighed even harder, now she _had_ to talk about…them.

“I have a feeling you’re not asking out of concern for my feelings, are you?” She smiled, trying to avoid it for as long as she could.

“Undercover is all about the relationships you make. If you’re going to move up in Hydra, you need to make friends.” Coulson stated.

She bit her lips and finally said, “I met some of them today.”

“Who?” Coulson crossed his arms.

“The Hydra babies- I mean, the Winter Soldiers. I ran into three of them on my way out. One of them was throwing up, so I tried to help him, but then his sister just swooped in and started scolding me about how I’ll never be one of them and how I’ll never advance- “Jemma explained as much as she could remember.

“How old did they look?” Coulson asked.

“Very young,” Jemma said sadly, “They couldn’t be older than about 18 or 19, I’d say?”

“Shakespeares” Coulson could identify them by age alone. He read the list and memorized it as soon as it was leaked, no matter how much it hurt, “18 year-olds, children of Dr. Ashley Kafka, head of the Ravencroft Institute. Or at least he was until he-“

“Until, he was killed by a patient.” Jemma nodded, “I just learned about that.”

“I know they seem rough, but they’re low on the hierarchy. They don’t have any actual power there.” Coulson assured her that she could still get promoted.

“Well, they weren’t the only ones I met. I ran into…a much older one, Libra.” Jemma continued, nervously pushing her hair behind her ear, “She seems much higher in the ranks.”

“Well it makes sense, she’s almost 70. She’s had time to gain influence.” Coulson nodded.

“Well she doesn’t look that old…” Jemma thought about the tall blonde with her tight pale skin and graceful body.

“Did you talk to her?” Coulson prodded.

“Yes,” Jemma looked away.

“Did she threaten you, too?”

“No,” Jemma bit her lip, “She was polite, she was…flirting with me, I think. She invited me to dinner tomorrow. She told me she could help me get on the top floor. It’s probably a trap, so I wouldn’t-“

“Go.” Coulson said.

“Sir, doesn’t that sound _very_ suspicious? I think she’s up to something.” She protested.

“If you don’t go, you look like you have something to hide. The best way to keep a secret is to pretend you don’t have a secret. She’s going to try to dig into you, but that’s okay. You just have to dig deeper than her. If she’s as important as you say she is, then she can give us something to work with.”

“I know, sir, but…” Jemma shuffled uncomfortably, “I don’t think it’s supposed to be just dinner with an employer. I think she was asking me on a real date.”

Coulson’s face remained unfazed.

“A date…with a Winter Soldier.” She repeated, trying to show how ridiculous and dangerous it was.

“Look, Jemma, I know you’re not used to this kind of thing,” Coulson sighed, “But in the field, you have to cross these boundaries sometimes.”

“A-Are you saying that I should-“ Jemma was horrified. She was already out of her boundaries by leaving her comfortable lab and doing undercover work, but now she was supposed to go full seductress?

“Just play along.” Coulson instructed, “Get her to trust you. Maybe that means sleeping with her, but maybe it doesn’t. You’re very likable. Use that.”

Jemma shivered.


	38. Returning Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephanie returns to the home she left behind, and the one she brought back together again.

Stephanie had already visited her former Brooklyn apartment. The whole building was deemed historic and restoration teams attempted to make the apartment look as authentic as possible for tourists.. She knew that people would look for her there, which is why she avoided it for so long. Eventually she gave in, if only for the chance of regaining memories, so after 70 years, she finally came home.

She had to wait in line for almost an hour to get inside, and the burning sun was making her faux black bumped hair itch. At least it gave her an excuse to wear big brown sunglasses.  Plastic plaques stuck to the walls gave visitors basic trivia about her life, like her part-time jobs and where she went to school. As she walked through the kitchen, she could still smell the burnt cheese on the stove from when...from when she tried to make cheese soup.  The island was just a bathtub with a long piece of plywood over it, because…Bucky found that old tub outside of a condemned building and decided to repurpose it. It took him and three of his friends to carry that thing up the stairs. Now she could do it single-handedly.

Stephanie tucked herself into corner to draw out how this apartment looked when she and Barnes actually lived in it. She saw him tucking the morning paper under his arm and grab his coffee and lunch bag on the way to work. Maybe if he’d actually wake up a little earlier, he could eat his breakfast at the table like a normal person. She drew him sleeping under a thin white bedsheet which only covered up to the small of his back, face down in the pillow, avoiding the sunlight at all costs. The bed there now had a much nicer comforter than anything they could ever afford.

It was funny, really. The details they got wrong were helping her remember more than what they got right, like her brain actually put in more effort just to correct them. She was in such a rush to draw everything coming back to her that it catching the attention of the volunteers.

“Research for something?” One woman asked with a polite smile.

“I’m writing a book.” Stephanie responded with an exaggerated Jersey accent.

* * *

 

Once she left the building, her knees went weak and she wasn’t able to breathe. It finally dawned on her that this had been her _life_. Everyone was talking about Stephanie Barnes as the alter ego of Captain America, and so far most of her recovered memories had been from her days as either that or Mother Winter. Finally, she remembered Stephanie Barnes, the smallest housewife on the block.

And yet, it still didn’t feel like enough. She still felt like an imposter, learning the ways of Stephanie Barnes, taking on her name and identity in order to replace her. If she went to Bucky now, she would get sick to her stomach, like she was stealing a love that didn’t belong to her.

Her journey wasn’t complete, but where would she go now?

_Murielle Dumaine_

_68 Rue Charles Nodier_

_75018 Paris_

_France_

She finally saw the letters on the envelope clear enough to put them in the sketch. The first time she saw that address in a memory, she assumed it was just fan mail. Then it showed up again, and again. She saw herself opening an office drawer filled with letters from her. She would also write back whenever she got the chance, even if it meant curling up next to a dying lamp on a rocking train. She searched online at the library for that name, but nothing showed how this woman was connected to her. The only way to find out would be to go straight to the address.

She bundled up all of her belongings into one backpack and stowed away on a cargo ship to Europe. The days she spent huddled in the damp darkness of the metal shipping container were very familiar, having been transported to countless missions this way. Many times, they had packed her children with her as well.

_“Mama, we’re bored.” 10-year-old Wagner groaned, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Wolfe and Beethoven nodded with him. This wasn’t their first mission, but it was their first time traveling in cargo._

_“Here.” She handed him her butterfly knife, “Practice with this. Don’t hurt yourselves.”_

She hid her face in her palms. Violence was their second nature. She wanted to believe that without Hydra pulling their strings, they wouldn’t hurt anyone, but what if they did? Wasn’t she responsible for teaching them right from wrong?

Once she landed in Paris, she walked the streets to watch how the people moved and talked. She mimicked them as best she could, and recollected as much French as necessary.  She wasn’t sure how familiar the French were with the Captain America character, but she knew she had history there.

She gave herself a moment to breathe and take in the beauty of the city. It felt liberating to know that she wasn’t there to kill anyone. She didn’t have a set rendezvous point or a timer for her mission. She could stay here forever if she wanted.

She looked at the address written in her notepad. What if it wasn’t real? What if Murielle was just someone she dreamed up and following this address was pointless? Even if she was real, she was probably dead by now, or at least moved away a long time ago. Still, she clung to that thin string of hope.

It was a long walk to Rue Charles Nodier. The sun was setting by the time she got there. Her throat closed up on her before she could knock on the door, sending her into a coughing fit that couldn’t stop. She ran to the metal gate and clutched on it tightly as she tried to inhale between coughs. She wasn’t sure if she needed to vomit or not. She struggled to calm her breath to stop the coughing.

Then, the door she had almost knocked on opened behind her, and an elderly man rushed up to her, asking in French with the kindest voice,

“<Are you alright?>”

Her voice rasped in English as the coughing finally died down, “I’m fine…just skipped a swallow.”

“Come inside, I’ll get you some water.” He switched to English, leading her inside with his hand around her shoulder.

“Just one glass, I can’t stay long.” She insisted. Her stomach churned uncomfortably. What was supposed to be an honest encounter suddenly felt like another spy mission, making her trick her way into other people’s lives. Maybe it wasn’t worth it after all, and she should just abandon ship and go home, but she also didn’t want to be rude.  

The old man was by no means feeble. In fact, he was tall and limber. If he was any older than 60, time had been good to him. He kept a very tidy house, with a living room that was a hodge podge of different eras of style. The walls were decorated with war medals and family pictures, and an old rifle hung over the fireplace out of anyone’s reach.

“Here, I cut some lemon wedges, if you wanted.” The man returned with a tray of cups and saucers and a teapot for himself. As he got a good look at her, however, his face went still, and his hands shook as he set down the drinks on the coffee table.

“Thank you.” She squeezed a wedge into her water and took a sip, glancing at him before setting her eyes down.

“You are…American, are you not?” He asked, sitting down across from her, smiling to hide his suspicions.

She sat up in her chair and smiled back, “My English gave it away.”

“Don’t worry about it, a lot of tourists come across this way.” He poured himself some tea, “and I served alongside many Americans in my youth.”

“So those are your medals.” She nodded.

“Yes, I was a _Chef de Bataillon_ in the _Armée de terre_ until a few years ago.” He said, while inspecting her face.

Stephanie saw how he was looking at her, and there was something familiar about him, even though she could swear she didn’t remember his face exactly. Finally, she decided to just ask.

“I actually came here for a reason,” She set down her teacup, “I was about to knock, but then I started…well you saw…, but I came looking for a…Murielle Dumaine.”

The man’s face softened, but his eyes lit up like he was pleased with her asking that.

“I know it’s been a long time, but does she still live here? I know it’s a shot in the dark, but…”

“Murielle was my mother, but she passed away about seven years ago.” The man rested his fist on his chin.

“Oh…” Stephanie sank, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Well, she died peacefully in her sleep, surrounded by her children and grandchildren. You can’t really wish for anything better.” The old man smiled warmly, with subtle tears wetting his eyes.

“I’m glad.” Stephanie said, not sure what to say now. She knew it was foolish to come here. Now she had just wasted this man’s time and possibly put herself in more danger.

“She would have been delighted to see you again, Captain Barnes.”

Stephanie froze, and almost made a break for it until the old man calmly pulled a picture off of his mantle.

“Don’t be scared, you’re safe here. I would never turn you in after what you did for us.” He handed her the framed faded picture. In it was a young woman, embracing Stephanie who was uniformed but without her helmet. Next to her was a gentleman, presumably her husband, holding a swaddled infant, their son.  Stephanie touched the picture tightly.

“Murielle…she was my friend, she…” Stephanie stammered as the memory finally put itself together, “She wrote to me all the time after I-“

“When I was born, I was kidnapped from the hospital by Nazis who thought I was Aryan enough to be raised by Germans. My parents searched the whole country for me, but I had already been whisked away to a Lebensborn house in Norway. After several months, they had almost given up hope…” The old man wiped a tear away and rubbed his glasses, “…but then you found me.”

“You’re…” Stephanie teared up, “You’re baby Michel…”

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have grown up in the home of my parents,” He smiled and stuck his hand out for her to shake, “It’s an honor to finally meet you, Captain.”


	39. Someone Out There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the Winter Soldiers have finished their detox, they slowly try to understand their new freedom.

“Hey everybody, you ever wake up from a 16-hour nap and realize you’re a piece of shit? That’s rehab for you.” Baron winked and clicked at the phone’s camera. Then he shook his head and stopped recording, “Redo.”

“You’re Snapchatting right now? Seriously?” Latte groaned from her hospital bed, her dark blonde hair drenched in sweat and soaking the pillow.

“It’s Vine.” Baron corrected her, tossing in his own bed to get a good angle.

“You swiped the nurse’s phone to make a vine.” Latte rolled her head to the ceiling, “At least we know now it wasn’t the milk making you a douchebag.”

Decaf watched Arnie pull himself out of bed no problem. Bouncing back from sedation was nothing new to him. Even when they were only a couple cells apart, she couldn’t muster up the courage to talk to him. Spying was easy compared to talking to a living myth. This time, she pushed herself to go after him. She wobbled on her numb feet until the blood rushed through them again, holding the bed for support.  She followed him to the water fountain in the hallway.

“Um, hi.” She waved nervously.

“Oh, was I hogging it? I’m sorry, go ahead.” Arnie backed away from the fountain as soon as he saw her.

“No, no! It’s fine, I just wanted to…” Decaf squeezed her hands together, “…meet you, I guess. Like, officially, not behind several walls of glass.”

“Oh…” Arnie blushed, shuffling in own hands, “Um…I guess that’s…a good idea. We’re both…Winter Soldiers, which means…you’re my sister, so…yeah.”

She held her hand out, “I’m Decaf, Decaf Stern. My sisters and I were named after coffee, and I was the runt so I got stuck with the dumbest name.”

“Arnie.” He shook her hand, “I don’t have a last name because the commanders couldn’t figure out who my dad is.”

Decaf couldn’t hide her amusement at the sound of his youthful voice, “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe you’re my older brother. I mean I know we don’t age that fast, but you look like a teenager.”

“I know. Sometimes they made me sneak into high schools for missions. “

“I used to do that, too! One time I actually got asked to prom, and I was like, 24. It was so awkward.”

“Did you go?”

“Yeah. It got me close to an ambassador’s daughter, which was the mission anyway, so why not take the chance to go to a party, too?”

“It must have been a slow year if they had you tagging teenagers at prom.”

“Well, I’m not one of the big shot super agents, so they had to make use of me somehow, but I was one of my dad’s personal assistants and bodyguards. He’s a Senator, or at least he was…until he got, y’know, arrested.”

“Huh, a Senator. That’s pretty good.” Arnie raised his eyebrows, “So at least you weren’t a goon baby.”

“It’s all the same to Mama. She’s going to be thrilled to see you again.” Decaf smiled until she noticed how Arnie’s face fell and his arms went limp, “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

“She can’t know about me.” Arnie crossed his arms and looked away.

“Why not?” she walked closer to him, “Did Hydra tell you that? We’re free now. We don’t have to listen to them anymore.”

“It’s not that.” Arnie’s eyes welled up, so he covered them, “It would hurt her too much.”

Decaf frowned knowingly. She could see why he would think that. If what Baron told her was true, then that meant the reason he was erased from Mama’s memory was because he would remind her of how the rest of his litter was murdered, and they didn’t know if she could take that.

“I’m sorry.” Decaf slowly reached out to offer a hug. He hesitated for a moment, but then threw himself into her chest, longing for warmth. She felt satisfied in a way. Every time she heard the story of the forgotten Winter Soldier, she’d always wished he was real so she could comfort him like this.

“Sssshhh…” she pet his hair as he sniffled against her, “We’re a family again. That’s all that matters.”

* * *

 

“Why are we going to the mall?” Sprite asked as she got dressed.

“We’re getting ice cream.” Bucky explained as he lay out clothes for Pibb to wear. Luckily, Clint had some hand-me-down children’s clothing from his nieces and nephews.

“Oh,” Sprite tied her shoes, “So you’re going to kill some bad guys.”

“What? No, what makes you say that?” Bucky tried to not sound upset.

“Sometimes, when Mama has to kill a bad guy, she takes us out for ice cream, because if someone finds the bad guy and sees he’s dead, and they ask ‘Who killed him?’ then she can pretend it’s not her, because they see she’s a Mama, and people don’t think a Mama can kill people.” Pibb explained.

“Well when you put it like that, it makes sense.” Bucky rubbed his temple, “but we’re not going to do that. We’re just going to go out and have fun today.”

“Hey, where’s my octopus shirt?” Pibb asked, holding an unfamiliar green shirt.

Bucky sighed. They showed up with the Hydra logo emblazoned on their shirts and pants. Obviously, Bucky disposed of those as soon as he could get them to take them off.

“It was too dirty. I had to throw it away.” Bucky said, “We can get you a new octopus shirt at the mall, one that doesn’t have a skull on it.”

“But that was my favorite!” Pibb complained.

Bucky rubbed his mouth. Should he tell these kids what the symbol stood for or would it destroy the last of their innocence?

“I like my new clothes, Mr. Bucky. Thank you.” Fanta declared, like she was bragging about not complaining.

“You’re welcome.” He appreciated her good manners.

“Do you think people are going to come looking for us when we’re outside?” Sprite asked timidly, “When we were in the safe house, I saw on TV that some people were looking for us.”

Bucky got on one knee and looked her in the eye, “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m going to protect you, alright? Just have fun today. No one’s going to hurt you while I’m around. I promise.”


	40. The Enhanced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hydra's children are Hydra's future, but what if the Winter Soldiers are not enough?

Desdemona and her brothers clocked into Hydra’s laboratories a few hours late, having spent the morning cleaning out Dr. Kafka’s office. Their father had many expensive trinkets that did nothing but make him look cultural. Mona pulled the original Monets and Picassos off the wall, but didn’t find a single photo of their family, not even in any of the secret compartments. She knew that her mother was just one of those trophies, and so were they. Still, she should be lucky to have had a father that patted her on the back even if he made it about himself; not all of the Winter Soldiers got that.

“C’mon, it’s not so bad being a part of the Dead Dad Club. At least we got one less person giving us orders.” Hamlet hugged her from behind.

“He was going to make me head of the institute when I was old enough.” Mona said dryly, holding his arm on her shoulder, “Or at least that’s what he told me, before the leak.”

“Now who says you can’t still do that? We know some guys who can pull strings. Besides, we’re young and adorable, we can pull the ‘Daddy made me do it’ card if they try to arrest us.” Hamlet explained, still holding her closely.

“Well, there’s truth to it.” Mona returned to putting miniature sculptures and awards in plastic containers, “So are we going to sell this shit, or what?”

“Mac and I are going to take some things for our new loft in Hell’s Kitchen.” He pulled out a vase that she had just packed.

“You’re staying in New York? I thought you would hide in one of your international drug dens or something.” Mona was slightly pleased to hear they would have a place close by, but she also didn’t want them to do something stupid and get caught.

“We will, for a few weeks, and then hop to the next place. The loft is more of a home base, with a pool on the roof.” Hamlet kissed her cheek, “I’ll send you a key. Drop by whenever you want.”

As he pulled away, he realized her cheek was wet from one fat tear, “Aw, are you going to miss me that much, Mona?”

“I wanted to help him.” Mona dug her nails into the Cherrywood desk, “I…I was there when they brought that patient in. He was blue and glowing like a lightbulb, with his veins visible under transparent skin. I wanted to see what he could do just as much as Dad did, but Dad told me he wanted to handle this one alone. He said, ‘Just focus on that school. That’s your real mission.’ So I did what he said. I left him alone, and now he’s dead.”

“You can’t blame yourself fo-“

“Who said I blame myself?” Mona looked at him sternly, “I know it wasn’t my fault. If that amateur Spider-Man had just killed that psycho when he had the chance, they wouldn’t have brought him to the Ravencroft, and Dad wouldn’t have been in danger.”

“You know Hydra would’ve wanted him alive, considering how apparently the commanders are collecting Enhanced people now.”

“…Are we really not enough anymore?” Mona asked, “They told us we were their future.”

“Hey, we still are,” Hamlet put her tendril behind her ear, “Someone has to keep these freaks in line.”

* * *

 

While Scorpio helped his father brainwash Agent 33, Libra worked on locating one of Hydra’s missing Assets, a boy who could control ice by manipulating moisture from thin air. He was so young and baby-faced that when Mother was found, perhaps they could convince her that he was her own child.

“Special delivery.” A tall tattooed woman with a half-shaved head in a blue jumpsuit knocked on the doorway of Libra’s open office.

“Hera!” Libra greeted her warmly with a kiss on both cheeks, “How was the Sandbox?”

“Terrible. They haven’t updated the security software in three years. I would do it myself, but why waste my talents on that place? They should really call it the Cardboard Box.” Hera sat herself down and dropped a sealed manila folder on the desk, “What about you? How’s Daddy Dearest treating you?”

Libra groaned and rolled her eyes, taking a seat on the desk itself and crossing her legs, “He’s got me and Bakshi chasing the little ice princess while Scorpio gets to spend quality time with Agent 33.”

“I’m sure you can have her when they’re done.” Hera assured her.

“True, but I want her now.” Libra pouted, “I don’t care if patience is a virtue.”

Hera opened the folder, “About that ice princess, I did some digging and found this news article. A couple scientists from Coulson’s team saved his ass before sending him to the Sandbox.”

Libra looked down at the paper and widened her eyes.

“What a small world. Dr. Simmons joined our ranks not too long ago.”

“Is it just a coincidence or was she planted here to get him back for S.H.I.E.L.D?” Hera asked.

“Even if she was, I don’t know what they’d do with him. He’s too rough for their tastes. Best case scenario, they’d locked him in a medical cell and take his powers away for ‘his own good’.” Libra used air quotes, “That’d be throwing away a miracle.”

“So that’s their plan?”

“It’s just a guess, really. But if you really think that Dr. Simmons is a mole, then we’ll just have Bakshi get a read on her. He’s good at that type of thing.” Libra slipped herself off the desk, “But if she does know the boy, we can use her to lure him back to us.”

“Send her out to the field? She’s from the bottom floor.” Hera protested.

“Oh, Hera, I’m disappointed. You of all people should know about being underestimated.” Libra crossed her arms, “No one but Director Carter had faith in little ‘Helen Oliver’ even after she debugged S.H.I.E.L.D’s identification systems.”

“Well, it’s easier to debug something when you created the bug in the first place. Too bad I couldn’t ‘rescue’ the Bluebloods’ profiles. All that hard work for S.H.I.E.L.D completely wiped from existence, leaving no trace that they worked there.” Hera smiled slyly.

Libra loved her crooked smile, especially with that shade of purple lipstick. She grabbed the paper off the desk, “Thanks for the tip. Hopefully Bakshi isn’t too hard on her. I’d hate for Dr. Simmons to miss our date.”

* * *

 

Duke pushed along the castle walls, opening the secret entrance to the hidden laboratory. It used to be the nursery, housing himself, his siblings and his mother away from his father’s other family and other experiments. The cells used to house the Sokovian twins once belonged to him, Duchess and Baron, with he and his identical brother having to share one.

Since his return, all Duke seemed to be doing was petsitting his father’s latest project. He and Duchess brought them their meals, checked on the progress of their powers, and basically catered to their whims.

“Make them feel comfortable.” Father had told them, “Don’t give them a reason to try to escape.”

Following his orders used to give Duke a sense of fulfillment, but now it just made him sick, literally. He’d vomit from how trapped he felt.

“If you keep gagging, you’re going to make me gag, and I’ve already got a killer headache.” Duchess moaned, “I can’t believe we’re out of milk.”

“Beethoven and Wolfe are doing all they can, but everyone in the world thinks they saw Mother at their local red light district.” Duke washed his hands.

“You think Baron’s any closer?” Duchess asked, even though she hated hearing his name as much as Duke did.

He shook his head, “His guess is no better than ours. Why would the Avengers have any good clues? They didn’t even know who Mother Winter was until several weeks ago.”

“And we did?” Duchess said, “They already got to Arnie before us.”

“That’s not a problem. He was more of a liability than an asset anyway. Besides, we know where she’s been, and they don’t. Hell, even Speedy and Sorceress in there know she was here just a few months ago.”

“Ha, it’d be nice if we could actually use them for once instead of playing fetch.” Duchess scoffed and leaned against the bathroom wall.

“We can’t let them out without a leash though.” Duke pulled out his toothbrush to get the taste of puke out of his mouth.

“Maybe if we can motivate them.” Duchess shrugged, “Promise the boy a night with Mama if he finds her.”

Duke coughed up toothpaste when he laughed, “You aren’t serious, are you?”

“Hey, it could work. You weren’t there, but when he was crying like a little bitch after his first test, she heard it and thought it was one of us, so she went to his cell. She pressed her hand on the glass, but she couldn’t do anything, of course. Still, I saw that look in his eyes as they met hers. Trust me, he wants to find his mystery woman.” Duchess explained.

“Aw, and they say you’re not a romantic.” Duke smiled at her.

“I’m not romantic, just observant. If you’ve seen one person stare at Mama that way, you’ve seen them all.”


	41. My Rescuer

“And you were so cute that I almost didn’t want to give you back!” Stephanie laughed, but then stopped herself, “I’m sorry, that’s probably not something to joke about.”

Michel wrinkled his nose and waved his hand, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Anyway, I could see the look in Peggy’s eyes when I came down the stairs with you. She knew right then it would be impossible to take you away from me. There must have been at least a hundred children there, but you were the youngest. You weren’t the only kidnapped one, though. I think…30, no, 40 of them were from Poland. The rest were…” Stephanie covered her mouth, trying to force the words out.

“You don’t have to say anymore.” Michel assured her, leaning forward in his armchair.

“But I want to,” She said, “You need this. I’m sure you’ve gone your whole life wondering the whole story, and you deserve to hear more of it.”

Michel sighed and brought his tea to his lips, “Go on.”

“Well, I’m sure you know that many of the Lebensborn children were born in those houses.” Stephanie continued.

“I do. The houses were for single Aryan mothers who were either pregnant on accident or purposefully having children with the SS to give Hitler his army, his master race.” Michel finished for her, spouting the last few words with a scoff.

“I never met any of those mothers. They had all fled by the time we got there.” Stephanie shook her head, “I still can’t imagine who would sign up for that. I volunteered for experimental injections, but I wouldn’t have a child just to hand it over to be…”

They both went silent.

Goosebumps spread over Stephanie’s arms; her body turned to stone. Michel took the empty teacups to the sink.

* * *

 

Her gracious host was kind enough to let her stay for as long as she liked. She warned him that he would be targeted for this, but he showed no fear. He didn’t grow up learning the story of Captain America without also learning to fight back. She stayed in what used to be his daughter’s room before she got married.

“She might want it back when she comes for the holidays, though.” Michel warned.

“Assuming I’ll be here that long.” Stephanie shrugged, sitting on the quilted comforter.

“Well, where else can you go?” He asked, leaning on the doorway.

“I can make my way anywhere.” Stephanie unzipped her hoodie and placed it neatly over the bed frame, “The streets of Romania are cozy in the spring.”

“You’re not sleeping in any streets, I won’t have it.”

“Michel,” Stephanie smiled, “You just don’t want me out of your sight, do you?”

“Consider it returning the favor.” He smiled back.

Stephanie tucked in her legs on the bed, “You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to.” Michel shut off the light for her and closed the door, leaving her to her privacy.

It felt odd waking up without a schedule. Even the shelters wanted her up and ready by a certain time. That night was surprisingly dreamless. Perhaps she’d used her up her memory recollection quota during the day, leaving none for the night. She dragged herself out of bed to open the curtains, and the bright sun bursting through indicated that it was late in the morning. The light also shined on the handpicked outfit waiting on the door. She felt the clean and slim dark pants and could tell they were new, as was the light blue silk button-up blouse. Michel was truly too much.

“Are these for me?” Stephanie asked as she walked into kitchen holding the clothes, still dressed in her thrift store pajamas.

“If you’re going to walk around in Paris, you have to look like you belong in Paris.” Michel explained, as he set down two brunch quiches, “Coffee?”

“No thanks, just some lemon water for me.” Stephanie neatly lay them on the couch before she sat down at the table, “This looks delicious, thank you.”

“Forgive me if this sounds creepy, but I read one of your Time Magazine interviews from the 40’s, and you said that you liked Quiche Lorraine, so…” He pushed the dish forward.

“If it was in Time Magazine, it must be true.” She resisted the urge to dig into the finely presented treat and cut small bites with her fork, savoring every crumb in her mouth, “Mmm, so good.”

“So what’s the plan for today? You want to see the Eiffel Tower? The Louvre? Or is that all too risky? I’m sure the rules of spying have changed since I was a youth.” Michel asked as he poked at his own brunch.

Stephanie wiped her face with a napkin, “I like to hide in plain sight, and most of the people after me hate to make a scene in crowded places.”

Michel rested his hand in his palm, staring at her in amazement, “One of the most famous women in the world, and you can hide in plain sight?”

She smiled sadly, “Captain America is famous. Mother Winter is infamous. Stephanie is invisible.”

* * *

 

They decided to save the big attractions for later and just take a stroll along the river. An overcast dimmed the skies to a peaceful blue.

“So is Adeline your only child?” Stephanie asked, more curious how this child she saved from Nazis had chosen to live his life.

“No, I have two sons as well, Lucas and Matthieu. They’re both older than her, so they moved out years ago. Lucas got an accounting job in Germany and Matthieu, well, he’s the free spirit so who knows where he is now. I’ll tell you when I get a postcard.” Michel chuckled.

“And your wife?” Stephanie asked, but when he went quiet, she quickly retorted, “I’m sorry, if it’s too personal, I-“

“My Rachel passed away last year from breast cancer.” Michel explained with great care in his voice.

“I’m so sorry.” Stephanie started to tear up. She could hear in his voice how fresh the wound was; she could tell he really loved her.

“She’d gone into remission _twice_ before, but when it came back a third time…” Michel tucked his hands into his coat, “She couldn’t do it anymore. She went off treatment, said she was tired. She told me…that if this was how she was supposed to die, then she wasn’t going to live in fear of it anymore.”

“She sounds brave.” Stephanie said.

“Well, she had to be.” Michel smiled, “She was Jewish.”


	42. Second Guesses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky takes the kids out for a day of freedom. Who could possibly want to interrupt that?

After Bucky got the Soda Liters dressed, they walked behind him like ducklings to the elevator. As he passed by the cells of the other Winter Soldiers, he noticed Decaf and Arnie sitting on her bed with their eyes plastered to the TV.

“You know Stark lifted the lockdown, right? You don’t have to stick around.” Bucky said.

“I know.” Decaf didn’t move, “I never finished _Gurren Lagann_.”

Bucky shook his head with a smile as he took the kids out. Sam tagged along as they were out the door because he didn’t want to miss out on ice cream either, now all three of the youngsters could ride on someone’s arm. There was an ice cream shop just down the block from them, but they really wanted to go the scenic route to the one a few streets away.

As Fanta and Sprite sat in his arms, Bucky scanned the crowds for anyone as much as double-taking at them. Without Hydra’s symbol on them, they looked like ordinary children. Even with their faces on TV, they blended with civilians. He felt sick that even he felt the need to distinguish them from the “ordinary” and the “civilians.” At least he could take comfort when they made it to the ice cream parlor without any suspicious looks at all.

“You know, you looking over your shoulder every ten seconds is going to make them nervous.” Sam whispered while the kids sat down with their ice cream bowls.

“Well don’t make me do all the watching then.” Bucky whispered back.

“Who said I was?” Sam shot back, “Go easy, man. Have a little faith in your disguise. It’s not half bad.”

Bucky had pulled out a red shirt and jeans along with layers of jackets, plus some leather working gloves to hide his metal hand. A blue cap hid his face for good measure. Sam didn’t need much of a disguise since he wasn’t exactly a household name yet.

When the kids finished their ice cream, Bucky wiped the messes off their faces.

“I can do it!” Pibb shouted and pushed away Bucky’s hand.

“Alright, alright, here.” Bucky handed him the napkin. The boy left a long streak of chocolate and sprinkles from his lips to his cheek, but Bucky didn’t want to embarrass him by telling him he missed a spot.

After ice cream, they shopped for new clothes. While the adults picked out sensible shirts and jeans, Fanta picked out her own style in the Disney Store next to the Gap.

“Rapunzel! I wanna be Rapunzel!” Fanta tugged on the shiny purple satin dress.

“Sweetie, that a cos-“ Sam started, but Bucky light hit his chest with a fist.

“Let the girl be a princess.” Bucky said.

“You’re gonna let her wear that every day?” Sam asked.

“Five years she’s been in red and black uniforms, let her wear the dress.” Bucky said in a low voice, before switching to a higher one, “You want a dress, too, Sprite?”

“No…” Sprite eyed a set of Goofy pajamas before taking them off the rack, “I want these.”

The little girls changed in the mall restrooms as soon as they were handed their purchases.

“They’re going to get dirty at the park.” Sam warned Bucky outside of the family restroom.

“That’s what the washing machine is for.” Bucky retorted.

* * *

 

The Soda Liters ran towards the colorful plastic jungle-themed playground as soon as they saw it in the distance. Bucky and Sam sat themselves and their shopping bags on a nearby picnic table, taking all the space so no one would try to sit next to them.

“You gonna let him wear that crusty streak on his face all day?” Sam asked as he noticed Pibb still had leftover ice cream on his cheek.

“Well, I’m not going to bug him about it. He wanted to do it himself.”

“So are you trying to be the cool dad or something?” Sam asked. Bucky went seriously silent. Sam looked at him sadly and tried to fix his words, “I didn’t mean it like-“

“I know, but I can’t stop thinking about…” Bucky trailed off for a moment as he watched the kids run and laugh with such innocence, “…what do we tell them about their dad?”

“Romanoff already told them he’s in prison.” Sam answered.

“I know, but do they understand why?” Bucky shook his head, “How much do they really know?”

“Kids pick up on things more than adults think they do.” Sam explained, bringing his fist to his lips, “In psychology, there’s something called play therapy. You leave kids with their toys and just observe how they play with them. Sometimes, they make Barbie and Ken reenact what they saw their parents do. Maybe they draw a monster creeping into their room who looks suspiciously like a relative. You ask them who it is in the picture, and they say they don’t know, but you know that deep down, they _do_ know, because they gave you all the clues.”

Bucky stopped looking at the people around them and started watching the children themselves. Sprite was jumping from the swings in mid-air, landing on her feet like a cat and starting all over. Fanta tried to make her way across the monkey bars with a fierce intensity on her face, as if spikes were beneath her. Pibb tried to run up the slide, clutching the sides tightly as his shoes slipped on the smooth plastic. Were they really just playing or were they still training?

“What I’m wondering is...why didn’t she take them with her?” Sam put it out there while Bucky was actually open to talking.

“She wanted to.” Bucky assumed, “We didn’t give her much of a choice. As soon as those files dropped, she had to disappear. If I were in that situation…I would, too, even if I had to leave my loved ones behind.”

“Do you think she’s going to…y’know…come back for them?” Sam asked. Bucky went silent, again. So Sam added, “She’ll find out we have them, it’s not our biggest secret.”

Bucky’s eye caught the suspicious look he’d been afraid of, an auburn-haired woman sitting on a bench, pretending to watch all the children on the playground, but eventually focusing her gaze on the Soda Liters. She scratched at her scalp from what must have been an itchy wig. She only looked at them for about a minute, and then she got up and left, having finished her business there.

“Stay with the kids.” Bucky ordered, as he got up and tailed the woman.

“Cap?” Sam got up, but he couldn’t stop Bucky’s march. All he could do was roll his eyes and huff.

The woman walked into the streets, following the flow of pedestrian traffic. Bucky pushed through the crowd, ignoring all the “Hey!” and “Watch it, asshole!” She didn’t need to turn around to feel him gaining on her, but surprisingly she didn’t speed up. When he finally caught up to her, she tried to turn the corner, but he grabbed her arm.

The woman jolted and faced him, immediately smacking him in the face, screaming, “Let me go, you creep!”

Bucky didn’t have time for games. He asked firmly, “Who are you?”

She pulled weakly against his grip. She tried to bite his fingers but was met with metal. Since that failed, she fell to her knees and pathetically cried out, “No! Stop it!”

“You’re not fooling anyone.” He said in a low voice, but the people around him proved him wrong.

“Hey! The lady said-“ An older man stepped in, but one glare from Bucky scared him off.

“Please don’t hurt me…” The woman sobbed as her body went limp. Bucky knew this trick. The target softens their grip prompting the pursuer to do the same. Instead, he gripped it tighter, asking her loudly,

“Who sent you?!”

She screamed louder, crying for somebody to help, until the scene got too much attention from the crowd. Bucky saw people getting on their phones to call the police. He finally stopped to ask himself if this really was a spy or if he was deluding himself. He let the woman go.

She jumped onto her feet, still wailing loudly as she ran away swiftly in her high heels. However, before she made it to the end of the block, Sam came flying in with his Falcon suit and kicked her directly in the head. She rolled on the ground, which not only knocked the suspected wig off her head, but ripped through a fake patch of skin applied to her left cheek. Bucky ran up to her still body on the sidewalk, half-relieved that his gut was right but also worried. Sam flew back around and landed right next to her, and kneeled over her body.

“I thought you left the wings at home.” Bucky said.

“Yeah, but I didn’t leave my phone. Stark dropped them off.” Sam answered while he pulled the fake skin off the woman’s face, revealing a long pink Glasgow scar along her cheek, which popped vibrantly against her pale white skin and blonde hair.

Bucky recognized her instantly. File WS-0019C. The Asset known only as Gamma.


	43. Authority Figure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those who are faithful to Hydra will do whatever it takes to get asset Donnie Gill back into their custody, whether it's for the cause or for their own pride. But as the milk runs dry, how much longer can the Winter Soldiers accept making others suffer their own fate? (Adapted from the Season 2 episode of Agents of Shield "Making Friends and Influencing People" )

Mona joined Libra in the security room as soon as she got back to the labs.

“That took longer than I expected.” Libra said.

Mona shrugged and shook her head, “My dad had a lot of crap. So what did I miss?”

With the press of a button, Libra made one square of security footage fill up the screen along the wall, showing mousy Dr. Simmons squirming in her seat as Bakshi interrogated her. Mona rolled her eyes the instant she recognized her.

“Turns out Dr. Simmons saved Donnie Gill not too long ago.” Libra explained.

“And she didn’t say anything.” Mona spat out.

“In her defense, no one tells the bottom floor anything.” Libra said.

Mona cracked her knuckles, “So do I get to wring her neck now?”

“No!”

“Why not?! She doesn’t get a free pass because you want her!”

“We can still use her. If Gill trusts her, then she can lure him back to us.”

“We don’t need her. Lear is going.” Mona insisted.

“Lear is going as support.” Libra said.

“Support?! He could bring him back singlehandedly if you just let him!” Mona exclaimed, ignoring the screen.

“We have to take his limitations into account.” Libra retorted coolly, “Besides, the last thing you want is Lear getting frozen.”

“If Captain Barnes could handle it, he can too.”

“We’re still not sure just how much Gill is capable of. I know how much it means to you to have Lear back in the field, but we have to ease him into it.” Libra put a caring hand on Mona’s shoulder.

“What happened to him…that was two years ago, you don’t need to keep coddling him.” Mona argued.

“Does he still throw up?” Libra asked knowingly.

Mona pulled away harshly as her cheeks turned red, “If you don’t need him, then don’t use him! He doesn’t need pity missions!”

“Desdemona, sweetheart…” Libra tried to grab her sister’s shoulder, but her stubborn little auburn head of hers was already out the door. When Libra looked back at the screen, Bakshi had already left Dr. Simmons alone. She called him as he was on his way to Dr. Whitehall’s personal lab.

“So how did it go?” Libra asked.

“She seemed nervous, but insisted that her loyalties are with science, no matter if she’s under S.H.I.E.L.D or Hydra.” Bakshi kept on his way.

“Good answer, was she telling the truth?”

“Mm, for the most part. She’s still a good fit for the mission, all I need is Dr. Whitehall’s approval.”

“Oh, Bakshi, you don’t want to interrupt my father when he’s busy,” Libra cooed, “especially in the middle of long due father-son bonding.”

“But if I-“

“The good doctor left _me_ in charge of Project Blizzard, so as long as you have my approval, which you always do, dearie, then you can go ahead and proceed as planned, with Dr. Simmons and Agent Lear.”

“…Very good, ma’am.”

* * *

 

Mona rushed down to the locker rooms where Lear was changing into warm tactical gear.

“You need to back out of the mission.” She sternly said.

Lear was taken aback, and stuttered out, “W-what? No way!”

“They’re partnering you with Simmons. No, worse than that, they’re making you her _support_.”

“She’s not _that_ bad, Mona.” Lear rolled his eyes.

“This is a sensitive mission, if she screws this up, she could get you killed.” Mona got more desperate in her tone.

“Exactly! Do you know how long it’s been since they’ve given me an actually dangerous mission? I finally have a chance to prove myself again.” Lear’s eyes got big with excitement.

“But it doesn’t have to be _this_ mission.” Mona’s eyes welled up with frustration.

“You’re the one who told me I needed to get back out there, why are you suddenly against this?” Lear asked, exasperated.

Mona couldn’t put her answer into words; she just shook her head and crossed her arms tightly.

“I’m sorry, Mona,” Lear strapped his gun onto his back and kissed her cheek tenderly, “I want to do this. I’ll be fine, okay?”

Her head was on fire, but she still embraced him tightly when he went in for a hug. As he walked out to meet with Bakshi and the rest of the team in the hallway, Mona pulled one of the locker doors right off the steel hinges and smushed it into a metal ball.

* * *

 

“Hello? Donnie?” Jemma cautiously walked through the belly of the frozen ship where they’d located the escaped asset. To her horror, several of the crewmembers were frozen to their bones, killed in an instant, “I’m…I’m looking for Donnie Gill.”

“Hello? You may not remember me…” She called out nervously, but before she could turn the next corner, Donnie appeared, shocked and still defensive.

“Agent Simmons?” He asked, approaching her slowly, as she tried to maintain a friendly smile.

“Donnie…it’s nice to see you again.” She said kindly, failing to hide her fear as she stepped backwards.

“Who sent you? S.H.I.E.L.D? H-Hydra? What side did you end up on?” He asked, in a threatening tone.

“I-I’d like to think I’m on your side….I saved your life once. I heard you were in trouble. Please, I…I need you to hear me out.”

From the top of the ship, Bakshi gave her instructions on what to say, while Lear joined the rest of the tac team in surrounding the ship. If they couldn’t take Gill back in to be one of Hydra’s children, then they’d just have to put him out of his misery. 

“Fitz would talk about you. He described the blueprints he saw in your room. He was quite impressed, and Fitz is very hard to impress. You’re a lot like him, like both of us, really. We’re scientists, wired to solve problems.”

“Maybe before,” Donnie’s hands clenched, “It’s different now.”

“Oh, I don’t believe you.” Jemma kept that smile, “You must miss it. Minds like ours, they need to be used.”

“I’m tired of being used.” Donnie snapped. He knew how Hydra used people. He saw what they did to Mother Winter. He saw what they did to young people like himself. He didn’t know how they got Captain America to be their slave but-

“Take a deep breath.” Jemma repeated after Bakshi, “Clear your mind. Surrender, and you will find meaning. Surrender and you will find release.”

“Agent Simmons…” His voice softened as his mind went cloudy. Those words were rubbing him uncomfortably, bringing up terrible thoughts of compliance and submission.

“You know what is best. What is best is you comply.”

Suddenly a shot rang out, breaking Jemma’s concentration, and bringing Donnie back to his senses.

“You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?! You’re just like the rest of them, you LIAR!” He attacked her grabbing her sleeve as he summoned his freezing powers from his palms. She slipped out of the jacket just in time to avoid the icy grip.

In a panic, she ran back up to where Bakshi and the rest of the team were. Donnie followed shortly. While she tried to apologize, Bakshi set her aside and waited until the asset was in their sight. Lear watched as he smiled at the young man, who looked similar to him in age.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Gill.” Bakshi greeted.

“You…”

“Take a deep breath.”

“No…please, please!”

“Calm your mind. You know what is best. What’s best is you comply.”

“Don’t…”

“Compliance will be rewarded.”

And with that Donnie Gill was trapped in his own mind, his body, including his powers, now an asset to Hydra. Lear studied him intently. So this was how they made Mother Winter from Stephanie Barnes. His stomach turned, and he had to hold his breath to keep its contents from pouring back up into his mouth.

“Are you ready to comply?” Bakshi asked.

Donnie smiled and nodded, “I’m happy to comply.”

“Prove it then. Keep us from being followed. Let’s move!” Bakshi ordered the whole team.

Once they were outside, Donnie was ordered to ice everyone on the ship. Lear had only seen footage of the asset using his powers, never in person. He was amazed to watch the ice form instantaneously without Donnie even touching the metal. He was so focused on the display of powers he didn’t notice the sniper hiding from above.

A bullet pierced Donnie in the shoulder, sending him over the edge and into the icy waters. He sunk like a stone, disappearing from sight. Lear looked in the direction of the shot to find a hooded figure, too high and concealed to get a good shot at. But he knew the sniper was reloading, so as Jemma pushed Bakshi out of the way, so did Lear push Jemma.

The next bullet sliced through Lear’s arm, which he felt immediately and let out a quick gasp. 

“Let’s go!” Bakshi shouted, calling the whole crew for extraction.

Jemma looked at Lear and noticed the darkening stain on his arm.

“You…you didn’t have to do that for me…” She said tearfully.

Lear took a look at it for himself and groaned, “Great, now my sister’s gonna be pissed.”


	44. Broken Dolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephanie has a breakthrough in her memory recovery, but what she remembers is nothing to celebrate.

_Mother Winter made her way up the circular stairwell, with six little ones trailing beside her like baby chicks. With every floor, she got closer to a loud whooshing of air, her skin getting warmer as the sun shined from the open door at the top. She raced faster to the blinding light before it was too late. As she passed through, her eyes adjusted to the sight of the helicopter preparing for takeoff. Three young agents, two boys and one girl, all alike in the face, stood in front of it, and they all turned to look at her as she appeared before them. They stood at attention in their jungle green tactical gear, with proud faces longing to please her. The young children rushed to them, giving them tearful goodbye hugs around their legs. The agents picked them up and kissed their cheeks. When she approached them, she looked into their blue eyes, brushed their chestnut hair out of their faces and kissed them all on the forehead. She told them,_

_“Do good out there.”_

_One of the boys responded in a young voice, “We will not fail you.”_

_The girl however, had small tears in her stoic face, and she clutched a small token on a red string around her neck. Mother Winter took her hand and opened her palm, revealing a small brass coin with a square cut out in the middle and Chinese lettering circling it. The girl looked up to Mother Winter, letting one solid tear fall as her lips dipped into a frown. She hugged the girl tightly before tucking the coin into her jacket. She had more than just her mother to come back to._

_One by one, the three agents jumped into the helicopter as it slowly lifted off the ground. In that instant, she put a name to their faces. Arnie, Barnie, and Marnie, 18 years old and being shipped off to Vietnam. She also finally remembered the grave truth that had been pushed out of her mind for years._

_They were never coming back._

_She reached out and tried to run after the helicopter. She leaped in the air, but the metal handle bar barely escaped her grip. She looked down to see that the building was no longer beneath her feet to catch her. She plummeted in a hundred story fall, screaming without forming sounds._

She woke with a thud as she hit the floor. She groaned and pulled herself out of the blankets that she’d dragged down with her in the fall. She felt the nightstand for her sketchbook and pencil and closed her eyes tightly to picture their faces again. Static. She tried to remember the events leading up to seeing their faces. She went up the stairs, opened the door, shield her eyes from the sun and…

“C’mon, c’mon!” She closed her eyes tighter and concentrated harder, pressing her hands over her ears to block out her senses. She saw the green uniforms and heard the helicopter.  They turned around to look at her…but it was all static after that.

“No!” She cried out loudly as the dream slipped away. Her hand shook as she tried to draw what she could: the propellors on the helicopter, the small brass coin, the uniforms. Blue eyes. Yes! They had blue eyes!

“Are you alright? I heard a scream.” Michel opened the door and turned on the light.

“Shut up, I’m _thinking_!” She barked at him. He jumped but closed the door quietly for her.

She focused on the coin. It was around someone’s neck, a girl’s neck. The girl was frowning. Frantically, she drew the frown on the one of the faceless figures on the paper. She drew the same blue eyes on all of them. Finally, she labeled them with the three names she remembered: Arnie, Barnie and Marnie.

_“Barnie and Marnie are gone. I’m sorry.”_

Alexander Pierce told her this, a long time ago. She didn’t understand what he meant by “gone.” Did they disappear? Did they escape somewhere?

He shook his head. He clarified.

_“They were killed.”_

Her knees sunk like stones and her ears rung. Her whole body shut down, just as it did the first time. However, this time she did not wail. She just lay on the floor in silence.

* * *

 

Hours later, she emerged, drained and dragging her feet to the living room. Michel was reading a book in his recliner.

“I’m…I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I-“ Stephanie sniffled and rubbed her congested nose.

He quickly got up from his seat and went to hold her shoulders, “Oh no, it’s alright. I should’ve knocked.”

“It’s not that, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just…” She teared up and felt the painful lump in her throat again. She pressed her face into his chest and sobbed. He wrapped his arms around her and gently shushed her.

* * *

 

They sat in their usual seats with a pot of her favorite tea sitting on the coffee table. He watched her patiently as she buried her face in her palms, mostly of embarrassment.

“Have you tried looking for them in those files?” Michel asked.

“Yes, but…they don’t have any.” Stephanie sniffled and reached for her cup, “It’s like someone tried to erase them from existence.”

“But at least…you remember their names.” Michel tried to give her something comforting to work with, “Did they have last names?”

“If they did, I can’t remember.” She sipped.

“You said…” He put his fingers to his lips to go about the topic gently, “…that you were told that two of them were killed, but you saw three people.”

“Barnie and Marnie are dead.” She repeated to herself, “Barnie and Marnie were killed, but he didn’t say anything about Arnie.”

“So Arnie could still be alive.” Michel said.

Stephanie stared down at her tea pensively, and shook her head, “I don’t know. He never came back to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Michel didn’t know what else to say to her.

“You know…” She scrunched her eyebrows together as something came together, “My children...were very attached to each other. Like, for some of them, I can’t remember seeing one without the other. It’s like they came in a whole package.”

“Well, twins and triplets tend to do that.” Michel added.

“They could’ve just let him come home and convince me that Arnie was a single birth, but they didn’t.” She said.

“Perhaps they knew it wouldn’t work. Like you said, maybe you never saw him without the others.” Michel nodded.

“I want to believe…that’s he’s still out there,” She looked out the window, “but if he is, then for all these years…he’s been lonelier than I can imagine.”


	45. Puppy Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ex-lovers get a tumultuous reunion.

The rumbling of the car bumped Gamma’s head against the window until she woke up. Her vision was blurry, but as soon as she saw the two figures in the front seats, she started pleading immediately.

“Whatever you want, my parents will pay it…They will call my lawyer and-“ She stopped as soon as she recognized her little sisters seated next to her.

“Gamma!” They squealed and scooched closer to hug her.

“Uh oh,” Sam mocked her from the driver’s seat, “Looks like your cover’s blown, mama.”

Gamma whipped her arms quickly like she expected handcuffs, but when she realized they were free, she looked at her wrists in confusion.

“Yeah, we figured handcuffs were pointless. If you’re as good as they say you are, you’d be out of them in seconds.” Sam continued.

Gamma tucked her hands away and curled herself up against the window, but not before petting her sisters on the head.

“Oh you’re quiet now? After that little show back there?” Sam asked.

“Leave her alone, Sam.” Bucky interrupted.

“What? You’re really going easy on her after she tried to make you look like the bad guy.” Sam argued.

“They’re not all going to surrender like Baron.” Bucky said as he adjusted the rear view mirror to look at her, “When we get her to Tony, he’ll-“

Gamma tried to unlock the door and tug the handle, but it didn’t open. She kept pulling in frustration, making a lot of ruckus.

“Woah, missy. First of all, child proof locks. Second of all, where are you going in such a rush?” Sam asked.

Gamma dragged her fingers across her lips like a zipper and flashed a sarcastic smile. Fanta and Sprite looked at each and giggled, covering their mouths to join in on this “quiet game.”

“Are you alone? Where’s Alpha and Beta?” Bucky asked, remembering the other names listed in her litter’s profile. Once again, silence.

“So this is the third one we’ve gotten who isn’t with the rest of the group. I’m starting to think they’re not as ‘ride or die’ as everyone makes them out to be.” Sam said.

“She didn’t say that. They could be coming for her right now.” Bucky said.

“No,” Pibb interjected, “Alpha doesn’t like Gamma.”

“ _Really?_ ” Bucky asked, like a kindergarten teacher, “Why doesn’t Alpha like Gamma?”

“I don’t know.” Pibb answered, despite Gamma motioning for him to shut his mouth, “He just isn’t nice to her.”

“Well, does Beta like Gamma?”

“No.” Pibb got it out before Gamma reached over and covered his mouth, which made Pibb struggle to get her off of him.

“Hey, no roughhousing, kids. We’re almost home.” Bucky warned.

Gamma let go of Pibb, but stared out the window, anxiously dreading the thought of seeing Tony again. He didn’t know how much they knew already, but if she was lucky, Tony had forgotten all about her after all these years. It would make things easier.

* * *

 

Tony choked on his coffee when he realized from the security feed who was riding up the elevator.

“J.A.R.V.I.S…”

_“Identification already processing, Sir. Agent Gamma of the Alphabet Litter. Date of Birth: November 11 th, 1969. Paternity is unknown.” _

“I know all that. Give me aliases.”

_“There are over 50 recorded aliases. Shall I read them out to you?”_

“I just need one name.”

* * *

 

Gamma sat in the middle of the couch in the living area, with her knees together, back straight, and hands gracefully in her lap. Sam and Bucky walked around, waiting for Tony to come down and see their latest guest.

Baron strolled in to get some tea from the kitchenette and walked right past them at first, before doing a double take.

“Oh my God…” He smirked and crossed his arms, “You caught the gazelle?”

“Wasn’t easy.” Sam responded, eyeing Gamma like a bird of prey, “Had to kick her in the head.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Baron grabbed his chamomile packets from the shelf, “She’s had worse.”

Gamma turned her head away, not giving him the pleasure of a reaction.

“So, are you giving her the cell orientation first, or is it straight to detox?” Baron asked.

“We’re still thinking about it.” Bucky said. He didn’t like talking about her like she wasn’t here, but if she refused to speak, he wasn’t going to waste time asking more questions.

Tony finally entered with a bitter and smug stride, “Evening, everyone.”

Gamma closed her eyes and kept her scarred cheek hidden from view. After one deep inhale, her breath slowed to a quiet stillness.

Tony circled around, “Cap, Falcon, Strucker…Gabby, good to see you again.”

Bucky and Sam needed a moment to process what Tony just said. Gabby? Had he actually met this one before? They didn’t know what to do when Tony stood directly in front of her, staring down at her while she struggled to keep her poise on the couch.

“What, you’re not going to say hello to your ex? That’s fine, I get it. Just let me ask you something.” He grabbed her chin and forced her to turn her cheek,

“How did you get the scar?”

Gamma shoved him out of the way as she stormed off the couch, but they couldn’t let her get away. Sam grabbed her before she could make it to the hallway, while Bucky held back Tony.

“What the hell, Stark? Are you crazy?!” Bucky had to keep Tony in a headlock to keep him from attacking her.

“She used me!” Tony growled as his face reddened.

“Okay, time out. Time out!” Sam forced her arms behind her back and threw her back in the seat. He was more than fed up with her today. Panting, he told her, “You better start talking, or we’re gonna run out of hospitality.”

“I just wanted to see them!” Gamma screeched, her eyes watering as she started to sob.

“No,” Bucky shook his head, “Not falling for that again.”

“I just wanted to see them.” Gamma snapped, keeping the tears, “I’m not working for anybody, or with anybody. I’m on my own. I just wanted to see that my little siblings were safe, and then I was going to leave. Now let me go.”

“Why the disguise if you weren’t spying?” Bucky asked.

“I can’t exactly hide _this_ with a baseball cap and a hoodie.” Gamma pointed to her scar, “I may be out of the business, but that doesn’t mean I’m safe. Half the world knows what I look like now.”

“Alright, Tony, now it’s your turn. How do you know her and what is your problem with her?” Bucky let go of him and made him sit on the couch.

“Oh no, that’s fine, let her tell it and I’ll let you know what parts she’s lying about.” Tony said in his classic sardonic tone.

“No, I want to hear it from you first.” Bucky ordered.

Tony sighed, and spread his knees apart, rubbing his hair to control himself,

“As much as I’d love to get into the beautiful tale of my childhood, I’ll keep it terse. When I was in 7th grade, I got my first girlfriend, Gabby. She was everything a 12-year-old boy could want. She was cute, she was nice, and we did everything together, and I mean _everything_.”

Gamma bit her lip and remained still as her body went numb.

“My first date, my first kiss, my first…just all the firsts, okay? Then one day, I invite her to my house, along with my three other friends--I’ll get to that later, I promise—and my sweet and innocent little girlfriends wants to see my dad’s lab. Now I wasn’t always a genius, okay? I was 12, I was in love, you get the picture. So I bypass the security codes and we go in, and I am just so excited to impress her, and then… Dad comes home. Dad sees I’ve let this girl into his secret laboratory. Dad immediately kicks everyone out of the house and ships me off to boarding school.”

Tony and Sam watched him calmly, genuinely listening.

“For _decades_ , I always blamed my dad for ruining my first relationship, but now? I finally see what he was doing. He was protecting me. From her.” Tony pointed directly at Gamma, who had finally put the tears away.

“Tony…I’m so sorry.” Bucky said softy.

Tony patted his knees and got up to leave.

“So do we get a cell ready or what?” Sam asked.

“Just let her do what she wants. I don’t care.” Tony grumbled and walked out.

In the corner, Baron sipped from his mug, “Hot tea anyone?”


	46. A Hard Day's Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma barely survived the (failed) mission to retrieve Donnie Gill, but will she survive the Winter Soldiers who have their eyes on her?

Lear’s wound continually pulsed out blood, which meant that the sniper had hit an artery. Jemma apologized profusely as she pressed a gauze pad to his bicep the whole way back to base. Lear didn’t seem concerned at all. The wound would seal shut in a few minutes and then heal completely within a few days. In order to make Jemma shut up, though, he had to let her sew in stitches.

“Oh, you poor dear.” She cooed as she pulled the needle across his soft skin, “Why did you risk your life for me?”

“Relax, I wasn’t going to die.” Lear said as he laid back against the chair, “But you could have. So why did _you_ risk your life for Bakshi? What’s he ever done for you?”

“Nothing yet.” Jemma admitted, “But he’s my superior, so I suppose I am obligated to.”

Mona walked into the lab with a stack of papers and immediately noticed Lear in the chair with blood-soaked bandages next to him. She looked at Jemma with shaking eyes and slammed her paperwork on the counter.

“Run.” Lear whispered.

Jemma dropped her needle and bolted out the door opposite of the way Mona came in.

“What did you _DO_?!” Mona screamed right as she turned a corner.

Jemma knew there was no hope in outrunning her, so she tried to change hallways as often as possible until she found a room to hide in. She spotted a chemical storage room, but the knob didn’t budge. When she turned around, Mona was there.

She squeezed her throat and hoisted her up in the air with one arm. Jemma tried to call for help, but the breath was forced out of her. Her legs kicked as they dangled in the air. Mona’s eye winced as she tightened her grip.

Suddenly, a small device flew into Mona’s shoulder and released a painful shock into her arm, forcing her to Jemma go.

“That’s enough, Desdemona.” A tall and slim man in a leather coat said in a low voice. Jemma fell to her knees coughing and gasping.

“She almost got Lear killed!” Mona protested.

“I’ll take it from here, liebe.” The man waved her away as he got closer. Mona loudly huffed, but did as he said, marching back to her lab.

The man offered his hand out to Jemma, “I suppose you owe me a life debt, but a ‘thank you’ will do for now.”

It took a couple swallows for Jemma to get her voice back and choke out a quiet thank you. She grabbed his arm to hoist herself up, and when she looked at his face, she saw very sharp features outlined in eyeliner and lipstick. He had red hair slicked back in an uneven part.

“I presume you’re the Dr. Simmons I’ve heard so much about?” He checked the badge on her lab coat.

“Yes, sir.” She answered as she rubbed the bruise forming around her neck.

He held his hand out once again, “Charity Schmidt.”

She shook his hand and muttered under her breath, “Schmidt…”

“As in son of Johann Schmidt.” Charity smiled, “The Red Skull. Have you heard of him? I know it’s been almost 70 years, but he’s left quite the legacy. It feels so good to finally tell people about it though.”

Jemma froze. The son of the Captain America’s archenemy. The man who captured her and forced her to…make the man standing before her. 

“As much as I would love to get more acquainted, Dr. Simmons, I have to see someone about the recent developments in the search for my mother. We’re this close to getting things back to normal around here.” Charity nodded to her, “So good luck to you, and have a good evening with my sister.”

As he walked away, it dawned on Jemma that she’d totally forgotten she was supposed to have dinner with Libra that evening. She checked her watch. It was almost a quarter to six, which gave her a little over an hour.

She rushed home, but burst into tears as she shut the door. The day had been far too overwhelming already. She’d almost died twice, and she found out Hydra was getting closer to recapturing Captain America. Now she had to push all that down and go to dinner with an ageless woman who looked at her like she wanted to eat her alive. She had to because the team was depending on her.

She put on her nicest dress, dabbed her eyes until the redness disappeared, and applied serious foundation to cover the bruises on her neck. She still had to impress her, after all. As soon as she finished putting on her lipstick, her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number that said “Look outside.”

She peeked through her blinds to see a limo waiting outside. The window slid down to reveal Libra in sunglasses and white coat, waving at her with a red-lipped smile.

* * *

 

The Japanese restaurant sat Libra and Jemma at a private hibachi table, which provided a fun display of fire and tricks as well as delicious filet mignon.

“Isn’t it toasty wearing that coat in front of the grill?” Jemma asked.

“Don’t worry about me, dear. It takes a lot to make me break a sweat.” Libra said as she added a fifty in the chef’s hat for a tip.

Jemma savored the sweet and tender vegetables the chef placed on her plate, “I’ve had Japanese before, but never like this.”

“Honestly, if it’s not Hibachi, then it’s just not worth it.” Libra licked the sauce off her chopsticks.

“I can’t thank you enough for inviting me.” Jemma didn’t know how else to butter her up and keep the attention off of herself.

“Oh stop, you deserve it after having such a rough day. You did all you could to lure Donnie Gill back to us, and then in the blink of an eye, all those efforts were wasted by a sniper’s bullet.” Libra sipped her sake.

Jemma sighed and rubbed her cheek, watching Donnie fall back into the icy waters all over again, “…it was so horrible.”

“Oh well, he wasn’t our highest priority,” Libra leaned closer to the table, “To be honest, I think some of my siblings are glad he’s out of the way, especially the younger ones.”

“Why? Hydra…we need as many assets as we can get our hands on, right?” Jemma asked.

“Well…” Libra flipped her hair behind her, “…some of them are just worried about getting upstaged. Even if the Winter Soldiers are the toughest, quickest, and most intelligent agents alive, we still can’t fly, or turn people to ice with a single touch.”

“Are you worried?” Jemma asked.

Libra laughed, “At this point, being the best isn’t what matters to me. I just want to be able to get what I want, when I want it.”

“And what do you want?”

A wicked smile spread across Libra’s face.

* * *

 

Libra kicked off her heels as soon as she stepped into her apartment. Jemma followed behind her like a faithful servant. She looked around at the interesting decorations of decades past, with a focus on the 60’s as shown by the psychedelic art above the mod-style sofa.

“You know, I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t touch the sake at the restaurant.” Libra said as she put her clutch on a shelf filled with different colored purses.

“Oh…well, I’m afraid I’m terribly light weight. Two beers and I’m passed out on the floor.” Jemma giggled. While that was partially true, she didn’t want to risk spilling her big secret due to inebriation.

“How about wine?” Libra unbuttoned her coat slowly, “That’s not too strong for you is it?”

“No, wine is fine actually.” Jemma reminded herself that she needed to stay agreeable.

“Which do you prefer, Dr. Simmons?” Libra dropped her coat to the floor, revealing her lingerie-clad body underneath. Her black silk stockings were clipped to a red lacy garter belt. Her matching bra and panties were sheer enough to show her pink nipples poking through. She put her hands on her hips as she looked at Jemma with slightly opened eyes and lips,

“Red or white?”


	47. The Ugly Circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephanie sees the sights of Paris, and takes in the art and the history the City of Lights has to offer.

Staying inside all day would do no good for Stephanie’s nerves. She had to go out and see the sights. She dressed in something stylish that Michel had around the house. The line for the Louvre was too long for her that day, so she decided to tour the smaller museums. So much art couldn’t possibly be contained in one establishment. She didn’t hesitate to ask the curators about the meaning behind certain paintings and sculptures. Sometimes, the stories behind the art were more beautiful than the pieces themselves. Some pieces were simply commissions for wealthy patrons, but others were gifts for loved ones or radically thought-provoking to stir discussion in their towns.  

“When the Nazis occupied Paris, they stole the art, but not to sell it, to destroy it.” Stephanie said quietly, as Michel stood next to her.

He nodded, “It was a way of attacking the culture, and the history.”

Stephanie smiled, waving her arms around, “It’s good to see how spectacularly that failed.”

“Not for lack of trying.” Michel said, musing over the statue on display with notable broken pieces.

“Well as a living artifact myself, I’d say it came out alright. Not what the artist intended, but the broken parts just add more to the story.” Stephanie pursed her lips.

Dinner at a real French bistro excited her the most. All the years of pretending to be German or Russian or whatever nationality Hydra needed to be hadn’t killed her American appetite. She ordered three appetizers before diving into a soufflé, and she still had room for dessert.

“So did you join the military straight out of school?” She asked before biting into a chocolate éclair.

“No, I was a history professor for a few years.” Michel said as he stirred his coffee.

“Ah, so it’s not just a hobby then.” She nodded.

“Well, studying history, particularly World War II history, has always been a passion of mine, for obvious reasons.” Michel gestured to her.  

“So why did you stop?”

“I… _really_ hate grading papers.” Michel laughed, which made Stephanie laugh as well.

“Oh, we should see the Modern Art museum next!” She said.

“Bah, it’s not what it’s cracked up to be. The art is unattractively-colored blocks and carnival mirrors. The exhibits look more like toys to me.” Michel waved his hand dismissively.

“Surely there’s more to it than that if it’s so popular.” Stephanie said.

“That’s what my son keeps trying to tell me, but I don’t know. Maybe I’m just an old man with different tastes,” He sipped his coffee, “More sophisticated tastes.”

* * *

 

The crowds on the Paris streets didn’t die down in the evening. She looked down at the cobblestone both to watch her step and study the architecture of the street. The buildings around her grew more familiar. She turned a corner and was inhaled a familiar scent from the trees, which triggered a distant memory.

_The bustling crowds around her turned into roaring audiences shouting cheers of victory. The Howling Commandoes carried Hydra officers away in handcuffs. The Red Skull had set up a dummy operation in a part of occupied Paris to distract the SSR while he made plans elsewhere. Colonel Phillips had ordered that Captain America abandon the city and locate the Red Skull immediately, but Stephanie knew that even without their leader, these Hydra goons would terrorize the citizens in horrible ways. She couldn’t leave them before their fight was over._

_She organized with the French Resistance who deserved more credit than she did for liberating their neighborhoods from Hydra’s grip. On the day they destroyed the Hydra facility and flushed out all their forces, the Resistance returned to their streets in celebration. Stephanie beamed proudly and told her boys that their work was done here._

_Or at least, it almost was._

_From all the hollering of cheers, she heard a scream of fear. She turned to see some members of the Resistance, men and women she had worked closely with for the past few days, drag a screaming woman out of her front door and to cul-de-sac of the street. The men held her arms tightly while the women cut off her dress with scissors._

_“Stop it! What are you doing?!” Stephanie pushed through the crowd which began to circle around the woman and jeer at her._

_The Resistance fighters ignored Stephanie and grabbed the terrified woman by the hair, while one fighter, an older woman, opened the scissors. Stephanie ran and grabbed the woman’s hand before the sheers could touch her head._

_“_ What _are doing?” Stephanie asked again, more sternly this time. The fighter pushed her off and pointed at her with the scissors._

_“You are done here, Captain Rogers. This is between our people.” She slipped the metal blades around a thick lock of the woman’s hair while she screamed and pleaded, but before she could make the first cut, Captain America’s shield knocked the scissors right out of her hand. The whole crowd fell silent in shock._

_Stephanie crossed her arms, “You didn’t answer my question.”_

_The now-angered woman yanked the terrified woman up by her hair to display her to the crowd and to Stephanie._

_“This woman did not earn her freedom through courage. She bought it by spreading her legs! While my brothers and sisters fought to defend us from Hydra, she crawled into their ranks like a rat and slept in their beds to save only herself.”_

_“You would turn on your own neighbor?” Stephanie asked loudly._

_“Neighbor? She’s a traitor!” The woman pulled harder which made her prey yelp loudly. She pulled a knife out of her belt and cut off the first strands of hair before Stephanie could say another word._

_The crowd screamed with insults and spit at the woman who had been reduced to her thin yellowing slip. Stephanie looked in her eyes and saw fear, and guilt. Stephanie had known traitors, and this wasn’t what they looked like. She also knew that she couldn’t talk this crowd down. She was the outsider. They had no reason to listen to her. That didn’t mean she had to stand by._

_Stephanie grabbed her shield off the ground and pushed back the Resistance that surrounded the screaming woman. She kneeled down with her and covered the both of them as the group she once fought with now turned against her. The audience themselves ran up to try to pull Stephanie away. She didn’t want to hurt them, but now she had no choice._

_Stephanie leaped up and spun around in a whole circle, knocking the citizens out of her way. After a few more swings, she made a clear path for herself. She took the shaking woman under her arm and ran out of the crowd, away from the street, and onto an SSR supply vehicle on the move. She took a tarp off of their boxes of ammunition and covered the now-silent woman, who refused to look her in the eye._

_“Do you have family somewhere else in the city?” Stephanie asked quietly._

_“No.”_

_“Do you have a husband?”_

_“No.”_

_“…Where are your parents? Or a brother or a sister, perhaps?” Stephanie kept asking gently, but the woman just turned away and tucked herself further into the blanket._

_“They are all dead. I have no one.” The woman answered in a low voice._

_After that, Stephanie gave her some space and quiet. As they got closer to the base, however, she had to inform her,_

_“We can take you to the outskirts of the city, if that’s what you need. Maybe when the fervor dies down, you can return home.”_

_The young woman clenched her shoulders, and then she laughed, softly at first but then louder as she turned around._

_Her face was Stephanie’s face. Tears stained her cheeks down to her sad smile._

“I can never go home.”

* * *

 

“Stephanie! Stephanie!” Michel shook her shoulder urgently, “Wake up!”

Stephanie jolted and gasped she came to. Her eyes squinted to adjust to the street lights. She saw that Michel was kneeled down by her side in the middle of the sidewalk, which had a clear perimeter of onlookers from several feet away.

“What happened?” She asked sleepily.

“You fainted. Are you alright? Do you need some water?” Michel asked as he helped her to her feet.

“I’m fine.” She stumbled for a few steps but returned to her good balance, “Is anyone hurt?”

“No, just you.” He said as he hurried them away from the street before someone called for help or made a scene.

“Well, you lucked out, Michel.” Stephanie said as she rubbed her throbbing headache, “Looks like we’re skipping the Modern Art museum today.”

* * *

 

Stephanie took a long hot shower when they got back home. She wrapped her arms around her legs and pondered if what she saw was a real memory or just a dream. She knew that women who slept with the enemy, even if it was just to avoid starving or being killed, were punished when the city was liberated. Michel could tell her all about it if she asked, but he probably wouldn’t.

As she got out of the shower, she saw her memory journal on the bedside table across the hall. For once, she was reluctant to use it. She knew that she promised herself to not leave any memory unrecorded, no matter how horrible. If she wanted to truly find herself again, she needed to know the whole story. Still, she couldn’t bear to draw this one out.

She opened the bathroom drawer and found a pair of metal scissors hiding among the soap bottles and old toothbrushes. She looked in the mirror and ran her fingers down the long strands of her blonde hair. There was more than one way to remember.

She cut it all off, lock by lock, until every strand fell around her feet.


	48. Inconsequential

Bucky had a dilemma on his hands. Tony was just starting to warm up to the Winter Soldiers, but Gamma’s presence could put that newfound trust in jeopardy. On the other hand, keeping her with them was her best shot for protection, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Plus, if they let her go, there was no telling what she would do. Most of the kids stuck around because they didn’t want to leave each other, but some reason, that wasn’t enough for her.

Gamma remained on the couch, but asked impatiently, “Am I free to go?”

Bucky crossed his arms and asked, “When was the last time you had your milk?”

She knitted her brows, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means what are you going to do when you start convulsing on the floor like a crackhead?” Sam said.

Gamma looked at him stoicly, “I have no idea what you just said.”

“She knows exactly what you’re talking about, she just doesn’t want to admit it to you.” Baron interrupted, holding his tea and taking a seat right next to Gamma on the couch, “Sis, it’s cool. You can drop the act. I know it goes against everything we’ve been taught, but these guys aren’t out to kill us. Even Tony, as much as he hates your guts, isn’t going murder you. Captain Barnes here won’t let him.”

Gamma turned her stoic face to Baron, but then harshly looked away.

Baron shrugged and got up, “Well, I tried. Don’t take it personally everybody. Gamma hasn’t really trusted anybody since-“

“Guys, what’s going on in…here…” Arnie interrupted as he walked in. He froze when he saw who was on the couch. At first he hadn’t recognized her, since the last time he saw her was when she was still a little girl clinging to Mama’s leg, but her soft eyes and cheeks hadn’t changed.

Gamma, however, saw the exact same big brother she saw fly away in helicopter more than four decades ago. Her stoic face broke into fat tears. She couldn’t even verbalize his name as she ran straight into his chest.

Arnie hugged her tightly, “Gamma? When did you grow up so much?”

“I thought you were never coming back…” Gamma quietly sobbed into him.

Bucky silently ushered everyone else out of the room. There was nothing more they needed to convince Gamma to stay.

* * *

 

“You really were kept on your own all these years? Baron was telling the truth?” Gamma asked as they sat on the bed in the privacy of Arnie’s cell room, which now had a Queen poster on the glass.

“Yeah, he does that a lot actually,” Arnie said, twiddling his thumbs in his lap, “And I wouldn’t say I was alone, I had…”

He turned his shoulders to look for his phantoms, but there was nothing there.

“Actually…yeah. Yeah, I was alone.” He corrected himself, “What about you? Why are you alone?”

Gamma smiled and shook her head, “Alpha and Beta… just went one way, and I went another.”

Arnie tilted his head like a confused dog, “Did something happen?”

Gamma didn’t want to, but she teared up again, “You…you were just gone; you, and Barnie, and Marnie. You were all so good at what you did even when everyone else called you a goon litter, and we thought that we could be just like you…and then you disappeared. And then everyone was ready to rub it in our faces that goon babies are truly worthless, right before they ordered us to forget you ever existed.”

Arnie’s body felt so heavy, he had to lie down.  The room went dead silent.

“I don’t mean to make you feel guilty…” Gamma said softly.

“I know.” Arnie said. His handlers had done more than enough of that.

_“Marnie is dead because of you. Why didn’t you go back for her?”_

A voice similar to his own whispered loudly in his ear. His cheek flinched as he felt wet drops on his face. He looked up and saw what looked like a mirror image of himself on the ceiling. His heart stopped when he recognized the figure above him not as himself, but Barnie. The blood that dripped on his cheek came from the bullet-torn hole in his chest. He inhaled a scent of muddy water and embers.  The body above him lay in disarray, with limbs stretched out and eyes still open. As he focused harder on it, the ground beneath him seemed to flip on itself, now putting Barnie’s body on the ground and Arnie falling towards him.

He quickly yelped as he fell off the bed.

“Are you okay?” Gamma rolled over on his side to see his face planted in the tile.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Arnie sat himself up, and looked back at up at the ceiling, finding it completely bare, “I was just trying to get a record out from under my bed. You ever heard of a band called Nirvana?”

Gamma hid a laugh and said politely, “I think I have.”

“You know, despite how big he is on making new tech, Mr. Stark kept his turntable in good shape all these years and he lets me use it. He’s actually not a bad guy when you get to know him.”

Now it was even harder to Gamma to hide her laughter. She heard that Captain Barnes himself had quite the culture shock when he was unfrozen, but it was both sad and heartwarming to see her big brother go through the same thing. There was so much she wanted to fill him in on, but she didn’t know how much he could handle.

“Tony and I are already… acquainted. He was sort of my first honeypotting mission.”

“Get out. That can’t be a coincidence, right?”

“Well, he is Howard Stark’s son. Howard Stark was head of S.H.I.E.L.D. We were born to undermine S.H.I.E.L.D, so naturally Hydra would send one of us to spy on him. I was just lucky enough to be around his age…” She put on a fake smile, “…we were so young then, I wasn’t sure he’d remember, but it looks like he can really hold a grudge.”

“Did he…do that to you?” Arnie tapped on the end of his lip.

“Oh, no no no! I got this long before I met him.” Gamma answered honestly.

“So how did you get it?” Arnie asked seriously.

 In a way, now she was the older sibling. She had to protect him like he used to protect her.

She swallowed hard, “Like I said, they thought a goon baby like me was worthless. So I had to prove myself. I really…really messed up, so I…took a hit.”

Sometimes protection means holding back the truth.


	49. Coming Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spending time with the Whitehalls gets a little heated. (Note: F/F in this chapter)

Jemma couldn’t look away. Libra’s body was like a marble statue, white and unblemished. Her arms and thighs were shaped by lean muscle. Her hips swayed as she walked towards Jemma, grabbing a bottle of Chardonnay off her counter. 

“You look like the type who goes for white.” Libra popped the bottle open and poured two glasses. As she handed her one, she smiled in amusement at Jemma’s blushing. That reaction never got old, no matter how many decades passed. 

“Hail Hydra.” She purred and clinked her glass against hers and took a long sip. 

“...Hail Hydra.” Jemma repeated and took a longer sip, gulping down multiple swallows. 

* * *

“S.H.I.E.L.D’s becoming a problem.” Dr. Whitehall stated, his hands pressed together on his desk, “Do we know who’s in charge?” 

“I’m afraid not.” Bakshi replied solemnly. 

“Fury’s alive. We know that much.” Charity added, leaning against Dr. Whitehall’s desk, “My sources saw him in the flesh at the Triskelion, 46 hours after he was reported dead.” 

“So you think this Nick Fury’s doing?” Whitehall asked. 

“No.” Charity said, “He’s not nearly this sloppy. At least not anymore. He must’ve left someone else in charge when he went underground, someone far less experienced. When we find Agent Ward, he’ll be able to tell us.” 

“You would waste our time trying to find that sorry imitation of a Winter Soldier? He’s not as valuable as you or my own.” Whitehall said coyly. 

“He’s not all that bad. He got Agent Hand out of the way, that dreadful bitch.” Charity played with the pens on the desk, “He may not have my mother’s blood, but he’s ruthless and yet, he’s compliant.” 

Their conversation was cut short when the elevator opened and a young lady walked in. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” a glassy-eyed Agent 33 stepped forward with a handful of files, “I was told to bring these.” 

“Please, bring it here.” Whitehall invited politely. 

Charity eyed the woman as she neatly opened the green Hydra-logoed file and placed it on the desk. She looked at him with a vacant smile that he knew all too well. 

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Whitehall handed the files back. 

“Happy to comply.” Agent 33 replied and disappeared as quickly as she had entered. 

Charity blinked a few times before asking, “Is that what you intend for my mother?” 

“No, of course not.” Whitehall waved his hand, “That was just a warm up. What I have in mind for our dear Mother Winter is much more sophisticated.” 

“I should hope so. After all, that was our agreement. I find her, you return her to how she always was with us, warm and loving. No more of this ‘whore mode’ nonsense.” Charity asserted. 

“I understand, but I do think you’re being incredibly unfair to Mr. Bakshi here. He waited his turn.” Whitehall retorted. 

“Oh, dear Onkel,” Charity waltzed over to Bakshi and pat his cheek, “You’re completely right. Bakshi has been waiting...but not for Mother. I think he’s had his eyes set on a...slightly younger model.” 

* * *

 

Libra pushed a tipsy Jemma onto her large soft bed. As she crawled on top of her, she grinded her knee against her prey’s crotch. She kissed up Jemma’s neck, licking the soft places in between the muscle. As the makeup rubbed off, she saw the red bruises arranged like fingers.  

“Oh my goodness…” Libra cooed as she lightly kissed them, “What brute would do such a thing?” 

Jemma’s heart raced and her back tingled. She was trying to relax and get through this quietly, but how would she react if she told her it was Desdemona? Would she lash out for accusing her little sister, or would she laugh it off? There was still so much she didn’t understand about Hydra babies. 

“Uh...I-I...um…” Jemma quietly gasped as Libra kissed down the middle of her chest, turning her head away. 

“Let me guess…” Libra said deviously as she reached under Jemma’s back to unzip her dress, “...your boyfriend?” 

Jemma whimpered as she tried to figure out what to say. She’d just given her the perfect cover to keep her from bringing up Desdemona, but she didn’t want to indirectly throw Agent Fitz under the bus, especially not after all he’d already been through. She could barely forgive herself for taking this mission without saying goodbye to him. She focused on that word, mission. She had to remember that’s what this was. She’d already come so far, she couldn’t think about failing now. 

“I don’t...I don’t want to talk about him...he’s just…” Jemma choked up a sudden moan as Libra slipped her hand under her dress to pet her pussy, “I don’t understand him anymore.” 

“Oh you poor creature, it’s alright.” Libra slipped Jemma’s panties down her legs and bundled them between her fingers, “I can make you forget all about him tonight.” 

Libra threw Jemma’s panties behind her and grabbed her legs to pull her closer. She pulled her loose dress off of her and leaned over her, resting her face between her legs. She squeezed her thighs as her tongue dove in to get a taste of her. Jemma’s dainty little “Oh” told Libra that she’d never gotten attention like this before, which pleased Libra immensely. She loved being the first. 

She lapped her tongue up towards the hood again and again to ease into it. Jemma arched her back, squeaking at the new intense feeling. Libra followed with plunging her tongue inside and thrusting it in directions, leaving no part of her untouched. The warmth and softness made Jemma tremble down her legs. Just when she was reaching the edge of a climax, which made her huff for breath, Libra pulled away and crawled on top of her. 

“You like that?” She grinned proudly, “Because I can do so much more.” 

She pulled Jemma’s bra off over her head without bothering to unclasp it and attacked her perky nipples with soft bites. 

* * *

 

“I’m hoping you didn’t come here empty-handed.” Dr. Whitehall peered through his thick glasses at Charity. 

“Of course not.” Charity pulled a manila envelope out of his coat spilled out several large photos on the desk. All of them were blurry except for the figures’ faces, which had been digitally enhanced with scanning tech. Despite the skillfully placed blonde hair obscuring most of them, all of these were identified as Mother Winter. 

Whitehall raised an eyebrow, “Seven different cities.” 

“In five months.” Charity explained, “We tried mapping them out, looking for a pattern of some kind, but nothing came up. We also tried researching to see if any of these cities were significant to her life as Stephanie Barnes, but still nothing. She’s trying to be completely unpredictable.” 

“Mmm…” Whitehall shook his head in disappointment, “There’s no telling what goes through that woman’s head, if anything does at all.” 

Charity thrusted his jaw and then continued, “We did notice that all of these pictures were taken within a 5-mile radius of a shelter. So with a little undercover work, I was able to access each one’s medical records and start digging.” 

Bakshi asked, “How are you supposed to track her records if you don’t know her alias?” 

“Because I didn’t look at the names.” Charity replied, “I looked for who withheld the most information, and who skipped out on their check-ups. They ask you all kinds of questions in those places, so of course she’d try stay as anonymous as possible. The dates matched those on pictures.” 

Whitehall sighed, “I can’t say I’m surprised, but where she is now is what we really need.” 

“Unfortunately…” Charity pursed his lip, “...that last photo is from three weeks ago, so by now, she could be anywhere.”

“So ultimately, you brought me nothing.” Whitehall pushed up his glasses. 

“I brought you proof that she’s still alive. I brought you a  _ pattern _ of movement. Urban areas with multiple shelters are her destinations, so now we can start narrowing it down.” Charity asserted. 

“Well, baby steps, I guess…” Whitehall got up and walked to his liquor stand, muttering to himself, “...baby steps, baby steps…” 

“By the way, Onkel,” Charity mused, “I was thinking of changing Mother’s title when she returns. Mother Winter won’t seem fitting when she’s officially off the table for breeding.” 

“Hm, I thought it was quite poetic all those years ago,” Whitehall poured himself a glass, “But what did you have in mind?”

“Is Madame Hydra taken?”

* * *

 

 

Libra leaned back against her bedframe, holding Jemma’s waist and guiding her along as she rubbed their hips together. Her conquest was completely naked and sweating at this point, quietly moaning with every stroke. Libra pushed her brown hair behind her ear and kissed her deeply, making out with her as she squeezed ass and thrust up against her. She set the rhythm for Jemma to follow, who did so perfectly, aiming to please, aiming to fall in line. 

She ran her hands up Jemma’s small chest as her little pet bounced on her, coming close once again to that finishing bliss. Libra stopped her, pushing her to the side so she could roll on top of her. She arched over her, leaning her so her chest was within inches of Jemma’s face. She grinded her pelvis against hers roughly, rubbing her hard enough to elicit louder, more euphoric moans. 

Jemma clutched the sheets tightly, opening her mouth in a silent gasp. Libra thrust against her, slapping her pussy into hers harder, giving her that final push to an orgasm. Jemma thrust forward, letting out a loud shocked cry and a final gasp for air. She fell back against the sheets, shivering and exhausted. Libra crawled off her and stood back up, rustled but not spent, and walked back towards the wine bottle. 

  
“I don’t know about you, but I could go for another round.” Libra held up her wine glass with a victorious smile. 


	50. Things My Mother Told Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephanie reconciles her new look with her old life,

Stephanie’s head felt lighter when she woke up the next morning, and when she patted around her shoulders, she remembered why. Her hair only came down to an inch below her ear. She looked in the mirror and her first thought was that she wouldn’t need wig caps anymore for disguises. Then she acknowledged that she would make a terrible hairdresser, since all the layers were uneven and it was too flat to have volume.

She found breakfast on the table and Michel in his chair reading a book. She quietly took her plate to the couch and waited to see how long it would take for him to notice. He kept his nose in that book for ten straight minutes before he finally glimpsed at her. He jolted and put his hand on his chest in fright. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Stephanie giggled for a moment, but felt bad she almost gave the old man a heart attack. 

“Mon dieu...your hair!” He exclaimed as he set his book down. 

“Is it that bad?” She bit her lip. 

“No, no...yes, I’m sorry, I can’t lie about these things.” He said with a wincing eye. 

“I know,” She twirled the longest strand she could find, “It was just something I needed to do.” 

“It can be fixed though,” Michel said as he got up to put on his shoes, “I know a great salon a few blocks away that can work with anything you bring them.” 

She sat still for a moment. The whole point to chopping her hair was to honor the women before her who suffered her fate. No one rushed to their aid to help them look beautiful again. Why should she try? 

“Stephanie, I insist.” Michel put his coat on without delay, “You don’t need to punish yourself like this.” 

“What makes you think I’m punishing myself?” Stephanie asked.

“Well…” He didn’t know how to describe it, so he just asked, “Please just come with me?” 

She sighed. How could she refuse when he asked so politely? She went to her room to change. 

The hairstylist was shocked to see what she did with it and asked what happened. Stephanie just told her, in French, that she was trying something new to get a fresh look on life. The stylist asked no more questions and knew exactly what to do. She cut even more off until her sides were smooth. What was left of her bangs almost stood up on ends, but they still had a visible part. When the stylist finished blow drying it, she spun Steph around to see the final result. 

_“I look like a boy!” Her nine-year-old voice whined as she looked in the mirror._

_“No, ye don’t.” Her mother cooed in her thick Irish accent as she set down the scissors petted her, “You’re still a beautiful little lass.”_

_“If you wore some of my clothes, maybe the guys would finally let you play baseball with them.” A ten year old boy with slick brown hair and missing teeth grinned at her, “I’ll even introduce you as my new pal, Steve.”_

_“That’s not funny, Bucky!” She charged towards him but her mother held her back, “You’re the one who spit the gum in my hair!”_

_“If you hadn’t socked me in the gut, I wouldn’t have spit it out!” Bucky shouted back._

_“Children. Enough.” Her mother sternly raised her hand, “Now ye both did something to the other, so ye both need to apologize.”_

_“But it wasn’t my fault.” They both said in almost unison._

_“It doesn’t matter.” Her mother asserted, “Stephanie, you go first.”_

_Stephanie balled her fists and tightened her whole body as she forced the words out._

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” Stephanie muttered. 

“Excusez-moi?” The stylist asked sweetly. 

“” Stephanie smiled as she removed herself from the chair. She looked at herself again in the mirror. She could barely recognize herself, but in a good way. She looked neat and professional. Without her hair in the way, she could finally see her ears, just like the woman in the vision, just like her mother’s. 

“I’m glad you like it.” Michel said once they left the the salon, “It suits you.” 

“You know, while I was in there,” Stephanie beamed, “I think I remembered my first argument with Bucky.” 

“Really? How about that?” Michel crossed his arms as they walked towards the shops.

“Yes, when we were little,” Stephanie stated so sure of herself, “I don’t remember how it started, but it ended with him taking a sucker punch to the stomach and me with gum in my hair. My mother had to cut it all off. There wasn’t even enough left for the bob I was hoping for, like the flappers who lived near us.”   
Michel was quiet for a moment, “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you mention your mother.” 

Stephanie stopped and felt her coat pocket, but realized she left her notebook at home. Her breath quickened as she feared she’d lose the precious flashback, but to her surprise and relief, the memory remained all on its own, like it was common knowledge. 

Stephanie’s eyes welled up as took a deep breath and smiled with joy, “I think you’re right.” 

“Tell me about her” Michel said calmly and proudly. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I got this…” Stephanie shut her eyes tight and focused, “Her name was Sarah Rogers. She and my dad...Joseph...were born and raised in Ireland. They got married and moved to New York City, and got a little apartment in Brooklyn. She had me while he was away.” 

“Why was he away?” 

Stephanie opened her eyes and swallowed hard, “He was a soldier, in the Great War. He was Killed in Action. I never...got to meet him.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Michel wrapped an arm around her. 

“...He was a hero…That’s what my mother always said to me.” She wiped her cheek, “He was never too scared to do the right thing.” 

Michel chuckled, “How funny. That’s exactly what my mother told me about you.”


	51. Midnight Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arnie and Gamma get away for a while to really catch up.

Arnie was woken up by Gamma sitting on his legs. He jolted at first with the fear that he was under attack until he remembered where he was. 

“What’s going on?” He murmured in a quiet tone. 

“I’m hungry.” Gamma whispered, “Let’s go get burgers.” 

“What time is it?” Arnie whispered back as he saw the others were still sleeping. 

“Not important.” Gamma threw a jacket at him, “Come on.”

Arnie decided to play along and slipped on some sweats and tennis shoes. Everything besides the bed and the television had been bought on the first day after lockdown. The jacket, however, was a hand-me-down from Bucky. Gamma took his hand as they walked to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. 

“You know, we don’t have to leap from the rooftop to get out of here, we can just...leave.” Arnie said. 

“And walk right out the well-lit doors in full view of the security cameras?” Gamma asked. 

“The Avengers aren’t keeping us prisoner. We don’t need to do all these tricks to ‘escape’ from them.” Arnie explained. 

Gamma shrugged, “Perhaps, but I still think this way is more fun.” 

Once they made it to the roof, Gamma stood on the very edge and looked down at the city below her. 

“Do you think we could survive hitting the ground?” She asked. Arnie immediately rushed to grab her away from it but she held her hand out, “I’m not actually going to try it, calm down.”

“Why would you ask something like that?” Arnie replied. 

“Because Mom did.” Gamma said, “You know that now, right? You saw the files? Everyone’s talking about them no matter where I go. London, Berlin, Moscow, even in Tokyo, it’s on the news about how Captain America’s fatal fall wasn’t so fatal after all.”

Arnie was quiet for a moment, “...I don’t know if the train was this high up though…” 

Gamma smiled and leaped backwards with her arms in the air. Arnie looked over to watch her land on the lower building next door in a rolling somersault. He nodded lightly. It was impressive for most, but his way was a lot more efficient. He ran full charge off the edge and jumped with a spin that put him facing Gamma as his bent legs stood firm in a landing that got more distance than hers. 

Gamma opened her mouth to comment, but couldn’t come up with anything, so she just shrugged and moved to jump across the cascade of closely networked rooftops. 

“You know, I found a good 24-hour burger joint a few blocks from here.” Arnie said as he followed behind her. 

“We’re not actually getting burgers. I just said that for J.A.R.V.I.S’s recordings. We’re actually getting tacos.” 

“You can’t make anything easy, can you?” Arnie sighed as he caught up to her. 

“Old habits die hard.” Gamma replied with a smile. 

They walked through the drive-thru of a small taqueria and picked up fifty dollars worth of tacos and burritos. They took their loot and hid away in an empty unlit alley, sitting on abandoned crates. 

“You know, getting me alone in a dark alley with food sounds like the kind of things that happens on dates.” Arnie joked. 

“Mhm…” Gamma stretched her lips in disgust, “Yeah, I’m not Princess.” 

“What does that mean? What happened to Princess?” Arnie asked. 

“We can talk about that later.” Gamma pinched the bridge of her nose, “God, a couple months without milk and suddenly all your sins crash down on you at once.” 

“So you detoxed too? On your own or did you go through a rehab thing like we did?” Arnie asked before he bit into a big bean burrito.

“On my own...the symptoms were really bad at first. I’d get really nauseous and throw up until I passed out. Then I’d wake up shaking and freezing and starving. So I’d eat something, but that only made me nauseous again. I thought I was dying. It took a few days to realize that I wasn’t. I didn’t want to risk blowing my cover so I didn’t check into a hospital. I wouldn’t say I’m finished either, it still comes around sometimes.” Gamma explained.

“Stark knows a great doctor who can make it a hell of a lot easier. He did it for all of us, even the Liters.” Arnie said, “It only took a couple of days. The only drawback is...well as you said, everything that seemed okay before...finally feels wrong.” 

Gamma scoffed, “I seriously doubt Stark will be willing to help me.”   
“Bucky will make him. Believe it or not, he actually cares about us a lot. Can’t imagine why though, and I don’t want to risk ruining it by asking.” Arnie said. 

“Yeah, it doesn’t really make sense for a man to risk so much for kids put into his wife by other men, especially evil men.” Gamma pondered, “Maybe he’s just doing it to get back into Mama’s good graces when she comes back.” 

“If she comes back.” Arnie corrected her.

“...Yeah.” Gamma accepted it quietly. They continued to eat in silence for a while. 

“I actually hope...that you’re wrong.” Arnie spoke up again, “I hope that Bucky’s doing all this because he wants to. Like what if Mama never comes back and Bucky realizes it? I hope he’d still keep us around because maybe he likes us. It’s a nice thought, at least. I mean, if Captain America likes you, how bad of a person can you really be?” 

Gamma thought back to just the other day when she was caught. How Bucky tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, like so many fools she’d duped in the past. Sam, however, was the one who actually caught her, and the first person she could remember in a long time who could actually see through her. 

“Mm, still pretty bad, I think.” Gamma pushed back her hair, “Do you want to know...how I _really_ got this scar?”


	52. The Scar Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origin of Gamma's and the disintegration of her litter's trust is slowly revealed.

_1979_

Only three people sat in the bleachers of the East German track as the young soldiers competed in a relay race, Mother Winter, Alexander Pierce, and Dr. Karpov, one of the Winter Soldiers’ physicians. The older soldiers cheered their younger siblings on from the sidelines as they waited for their turn to race. 

Dr. Karpov shook his head, “They treat their training like it is recreation. You allow this?” 

“Soldiers who enjoy their training find little reason to complain or disobey, in my experience.” Pierce replied, placing a hand on Mother Winter’s thigh. 

“Go Wagner! Kick her arse!” Princess clapped as the Composers took the lead over the Alphabet, with Wagner leaping past Beta as they both sped towards the final runners, their runts. 

“So what have you done to correct your little disaster from a few years ago? By your experience, you almost uncovered this whole operation. The Premier of China contacted me just the other day, still asking about the girl we sent them one summer, the one _you_ assured me was erased from history.” 

“She _has_ been erased. The girl they’re asking for was a facade, with a fake identity that leaves a trail of bread crumbs to the KGB, not to us.” Pierce talked quietly with a calm smile, peeking over his shoulder to make sure Mother Winter wasn’t listening intently, “As for corrections, well, that’s what I wanted to discuss with you. With Dr. Faustus gone, rest in peace, I was hoping that you could go over his notes and come up with a...calming mechanism of sorts for the children.” 

With a second wind, Beta miraculously handed the baton to Gamma a split second before Wolfe got his from Wagner. All Gamma had to do was keep them in the lead. She may have been a year older, and they were both slim, but Wolfe was a blur. He could take out a target in the time it took to switch a light off and on. 

“Are they developing a tolerance to the milk?” Karpov asked. 

“No, that does the trick most of the time,” Pierce wrapped his arm around Mother Winter’s shoulder, pulling her closer to him, “But I was thinking about something more immediate, for emergencies, like we have for this one.” 

Gamma sprinted as hard as she could, but she could feel her energy draining and her throat growing sore. She tried to push herself, but trying to go faster felt like fighting a hurricane wind. When Wolfe crossed the finish line before her, her legs gave up. Her shoulders drooped as she came to a stop and watched Wolfe get picked up and congratulated by his litter. Gamma groaned and tried to get her breath back as she already knew what she was in for. 

“How could you blow it? We had it!” Beta exclaimed as she ran up behind her and shoved her shoulder. 

“It was close!” Gamma argued. 

“No, it wasn’t. He had at least two seconds ahead of you.” Beta snarled. 

“Why is it only my fault? Alpha was way behind Beethoven when he handed it to you!” Gamma snapped. 

“Beethoven’s a tank, though!” Alpha came in behind Beta, and pointed at Gamma, “Wolfe’s a shrimp. He’s literally the youngest runt of all of us, and you couldn’t beat him. That makes you the lowest of the runts!” 

“Alright guys, that’s enough of the R-word.” Prince walked up to them to end yet another argument. 

“Prince, tell them I was close!” Gamma looked at him desperately. 

He crossed his arms, “Then I would be lying. I know this is just a practice run, but your ‘Lord of the Flies’ test is coming up, which means two weeks in the wilderness with nothing but your skills and the elements. What if you find a mountain lion? How are you supposed to outrun it if you can’t outrun your own little brother?” 

“Did _you_ outrun a mountain lion?” Beta asked, crossing her own arms. 

“I didn’t have to, because my litter was there to _support_ me.” Prince said, looking at her directly, “Because this is a team effort, remember? At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter who was the biggest or the strongest or who picked up the slack. If one of you dies, then you all die.” 

The three kids were immediately silenced as they shifted their gazes around and frowned in defeat.

\---  
“Empty your pockets.” The officer ordered as their helicopter flew over miles of outstretched forest.

The Alphabet pulled out their knives, matches, and sticks of gum. They turned their jacket pockets inside out to prove they weren’t stashing anything that would help them cheat. 

“Where are we supposed to land?” Beta asked. 

“We’re not, you jump.” The masked instructor replied, sliding open the door. 

“Do we get parachutes?” Alpha asked. 

The instructor laughed and grabbed the boy by his shirt and threw him out of the aircraft. His sisters were stunned speechless. The man nodded his head towards the exit, “Go now, if you want to be able to find him.” 

Beta and Gamma simultaneously jumped without another thought, guiding their movements to control their falls. Luckily, they landed on solid ground, rolling down a grassy hill and into a stream. Gamma pulled her face out of the water gasping for air, while Beta wiped the grass off of herself. 

“At least we don’t have to worry about looking for water.” Beta said. 

“If Alpha’s dead, it won’t matter.” Gamma reminded her. 

“Relax, that big lug isn’t that fragile.” Beta replied as she started walking towards the trees, trying to navigate which way he fell, “Stay here.” 

“No, I should go with you.” Gamma followed behind her, “We can’t split up now, we just started.” 

“Someone needs to stay by the water in case he comes by.” Beta insisted, “And try to catch a fish while you’re at it. It’s never too early to think about dinner.” 

Gamma pursed her lips and muttered, “You would be the first to think about dinner.” 

Beta snapped her head back around and marched towards her and shoved her, “You wanna say something?” 

Gamma stayed silent and chose not to shove back. Things were already starting roughly, so she didn’t need to make it worse. She just went back to the stream and walked alongside it to look for anything caught in the shallows. 

Once Beta got to the trees, she heard loud echoes of sharp yelling. At first she thought it was birds, but soon it clearly became Alpha calling for help. She breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t dead. She followed his voice until she found him upside down with his foot caught in the fork of a tree branch. 

“Are you really losing a fight to a tree?” She snarked as she stood right under him. 

“I can’t-” He grunted as he struggled to pull himself up, “I can’t reach it!” 

Beta reached for the gun she didn’t have in the belt she wasn’t wearing. When it finally dawned on her on how much they were going without, she threw her head back and groaned loudly. She cracked her knuckles and jumped on the trunk of the tree, latching onto whatever gnarl or branch would support her. She cautiously inched her way up several feet to his branch, but when she reached him, rather than wedging his foot out by hand and holding on, she kicked his foot out of the fork and laughed as he hit the ground. 

“C’mon loser. We found water, now we need your big hunky man muscles to make us a shelter.” Beta jumped down gracefully and patted his back. 

They rejoined Gamma who was still walking along the stream, “I don’t see any fish, you guys.” 

“What? Well what are we supposed to eat then?” Alpha asked. 

“Hang on, just keep looking.” Beta said. They all searched and ran their hands against the stream in hopes of finding something alive. By sunset, they had found nothing, and it became too dark to focus on any small moving critters long enough to chase them. They sp

“Looks like it’s acorns and leaf salad tonight.” Gamma said as she gathered the most edible things she could find while Alpha tried to start a fire by banging two rocks together. 

“Are you sure those are the right kind?” Beta asked.

“Well they’re the closest-looking to the ones in the survival guide.” Alpha persisted and struck them faster. 

“Let me try the stick method.” Beta pulled two sticks from their pile and them against each other furiously. By a miracle, a small flame fluttered and spread to the embers. 

“I did it!” She cheered, and her litter joined her in their first victory. 

The ground was no trouble for them to sleep on. They’d slept on less comfortable surfaces in the past. When morning came, however, their stomachs rumbled terribly. They needed protein or they would go crazy. Now that they had established a campsite, they could split up in their hunt for meat. 

Alpha traveled northward and listened for even the quietest of ruffles in the leaves. The birds chirping irritated them, as their flesh was out of his reach without a weapon. Then, he saw a whole group of them fly away in a rush. Something must have disturbed them, something alive. He ran towards the spot and grew eager as he heard more rustling as he got closer. The low feral grumblings confirmed it was an animal, but when he finally saw the creature, he froze. 

A prowling mountain lion made eye contact with him from only a few yards away. He had two choices, run and get pounced from the close distance, or wait for the cat to make the first move. If the cat ran after him, maybe he could hold his own to take it, but the size of it didn’t make him feel confident. He may have had super strength for his age, but he was still only ten. The cat slowly approached him, making his choice for him. If he failed to fight it off, Mama wasn’t here to save the day. 

Alpha quickly picked up a rock and threw it in an attempt to distract the mountain lion and give himself a chance to flee. It didn’t work. The mountain lion chased after him immediately. Alpha tried to confuse it by zigzagging through the trees, but even as he ran faster, he could still hear the slobbering beast get closer. He let out one cry for help before he was tackled with sharp claws scraping against back. 

He quickly flipped on his back to face the predator directly and grabbed ahold of its neck to keep its mouth at a distance from his own throat, but its paws attacked his chest and arms, stripping through the skin. He kicked the cat in the gut and threw it off of him, but it landed back on its feet, and pounced him again because he had the chance to stand. His blood-soaked arms caught predator’s arms this time, but he struggled to keep its head away with his feet. He could only keep this stalemate for so long. 

Suddenly, the cat turned its head away from Alpha to turn to a new creature that had joined the fight by biting its leg. The mountain lion became distracted and directed its paws at a mangy wild dog that sunk its teeth into the thick leg muscle. This set Alpha free and gave him the chance to pounce on the mountain lion and grab a thick hold of its neck with both hands. With a long and hard tug, the predator’s neck crunched and it let out one last sharp roar before going silent and stiff. 

Alpha collapsed on his side, breaking into tears out of relief. The wild dog that joined the fight walked over to him and licked his blood and tear covered face. 

“I can’t believe I almost died!” He sobbed and instinctively held the dog closer to himself, “You saved me!” 

He took a look at his savior and found no collar or tag. The dog’s coat was mangy and smelled musky, which meant it probably didn’t belong to anyone. 

“I thought this place was supposed to be uncharted,” Alpha petted the dog’s head, “How did someone like you get here?” 

The dog continued to lick his face to get all blood he could off. Alpha looked at the dead mountain lion and his mouth watered at the thought of roasting it over the fire. 

“Looks like I’m getting the hang of this.” He smiled at the dog as he continued to rub it, “I survived a mountain lion, got a whole bunch of meat, and I got a new teammate.”


	53. The Scar Story Part 2

Alpha couldn’t stand up for the first few minutes. As he leaned up, he took a look at his stomach and saw blood seeping out of ripped skin like a cherry strudel. Seeing it finally made the pain real. The adrenaline died down and he squeezed his face tightly, just avoiding howling in agony. The dog beside him nudged under his arm, encouraging him to get up. Alpha rolled over onto his knees, but his arms had strips of flesh dangling down like noodles. With one gutteral yell, he pushed himself back up on his legs. His head started spinning, but he kept one arm on the dog until he found his balance. He looked back at the dead mountain lion behind him and groaned. How was he supposed to carry that thing back in his condition? 

“Alpha! Where are you?” Beta’s voice echoed through the trees. 

“Here!” He shouted weakly, going light-headed from that one effort. 

She ran up to him but stopped and covered her mouth when she saw his wounds, “What the hell happened to you?”

He nodded towards the dead cat as he held his abdomen, “Just fought off a cougar, no big deal.” 

“You could’ve died! On Day 2!” Beta rubbed her face and paced back and forth before taking his arm over her shoulder to hold him up. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t, because of this big guy right here.” Alpha wearily rubbed the dark brown dog’s matted fur. 

“Well maybe Hydra will send him on missions instead.” Beta pulled her brother forward but he stopped her. 

“No, I can walk. Go get the cat.” He insisted through painful tears.

She huffed and went to throw the mountain lion over her shoulders, “Fine, but try not to die on the way back to camp.” 

They found Gamma sharpening rocks by the river, and she jumped up as soon as she saw Alpha. 

“Oh my God, oh my God…!” She ran over and helped carry him to the river, splashing water on his wounds to clean them, “Stitches! We need to do stitches! I need something stringy or sharp needles or something!” 

“All we have is pine needles.” Beta replied as she dropped the mountain lion by the fireplace, “and whatever bones we can get out of this dead cat.” 

“We just have to make it work!” Gamma ran off to gather some pine needles  
.   
“What do we wrap it with? His shirt’s torn to shreds.” Beta called out, but her sister was already gone. 

“I could use yours.” Alpha said weakly. Beta just ignored him and got to work ripping the hide off of the cat. The ripped fur where the dog had bitten it gave her a good start and the rocks Gamma had sharpened were also useful. 

The dog walked over to Alpha and licked the blood off his arm. Alpha winced at the stinging sensation, but rubbed the dog’s ear instinctively. 

“Good boy, Huxley.” 

Beta stopped what she was doing, “Don’t name it.” 

“Too late.” Alpha rubbed the auburn fur on his neck, “He’s a part of the team. I would call him Delta, but that’s lame.” 

“That mutt is not a part of the team.” Beta insisted as she broke a rib off of the cougar carcass. The splinters of bone were small and sharp enough to pierce like a needle.

Gamma returned with leaves and pine needles needed to make their best excuse for stitches. She patched up Alpha while Beta started the fire to cook the meat. The boy cried out so loudly, Hux growled at Gamma, thinking she was hurting him. 

“It’s okay, boy. I’m fine don’t worry about-” The next stitch made Alpha howl, which in turn made Hux howl alongside him. 

“What did you do to get this dog so attached to you?” Gamma asked when she finished. 

“Nothing, he just...came to me.” Alpha rubbed Hux’s back as the dog licked his face.

“You know you can’t keep him.” Beta reminded him, “There’s no way the commanders will let him back on base. No pets, not even mice.” 

“So? That doesn’t mean we can’t keep him around for the rest of the challenge. What if he’s a hunting dog?” Alpha asked. 

Gamma took Alpha’s side for this one, “He’s useful, isn’t he?” 

Beta rubbed her blood-soaked hands down her face, “Fine. I give up, the mutt stays. He’ll probably get bored of you and run off tomorrow, anyway.” 

 

Huxley remained with them for the rest of the two weeks. Alpha was right in that he was useful for hunting, since he could chase down squirrels before they escaped into the trees. His fur kept Alpha warm at night while Beta and Gamma shared the cougar hide. Alpha’s arms and stomach healed after a few days, but a long bumpy scar remained that ran under his navel to his hip. 

“I thought we weren’t supposed to get scars.” Alpha said. 

“Maybe that only applies to the Purebloods.” Beta groaned. The last thing they needed was another reminder of their mediocrity. 

On the last night of their Lord of the Flies, the Alphabet gathered around their campfire one last time for the discussion Alpha had been dreading. 

“So what do we do about Hux tomorrow?” Gamma asked. 

“I’m gonna sneak him onto the helicopter somehow.” Alpha firmly stated. 

“How?” Beta was afraid he would say that, “It’s a small helicopter, and he’s a big dog.” 

“We can figure something out.” Alpha insisted, “Someone can distract the commander, and then I’ll sneak up under the bench really quickly and we all sit really close so that we can hide him behind our legs.” 

“It’s not going to work. He has to stay here.” Beta said. 

“But he needs me!” Alpha pleaded. 

“No, he doesn’t!” Beta argued, “He was doing just fine before you got here, and he’ll be fine when you leave!”

“Hux is really tough, maybe we can convince them to take him in as an attack dog or something.” Alpha continued with his ideas. 

“It’s not going to work.” Beta repeated herself. 

“You can’t just say it’s not going to work without telling me why it’s not going to work!” 

“Because it doesn’t matter what we tell them, they never listen to us.” 

“But we need to try!” 

“Damn it, this is exactly why we shouldn’t have kept him around in the first place! I knew this was gonna happen!” Beta tugged at her hair and stomped in circle. 

“Beta…” Gamma chimed in and shrugged, “The worst they’ll do is say no. If we have to leave the dog, we’ll leave the dog and we’ll all move on with our lives. If we can convince them to take him, then for once, we’ll win at something.” 

Beta clenched her jaw tightly and stormed to her sleeping spot, “Do what you want with the damn thing, I don’t care.” 

The helicopter arrived for them early in the morning. They stood by their campsite, at attention when none other than the Baron Zemo himself walked up to them and took a look at their set-up.

“So you all survived, I’m impressed.” The hooded commander smiled, “and I’m also out fifty dollars.” 

The Alphabet remained still and silent with their heads down. Hux trotted from campfire ashes to Alpha’s side. 

“And what’s this? You made a friend.” Baron Zemo jested. 

“With your permission, sir,” Alpha cleared his throat, “This hound is exceptionally gifted in hunting and tracking. I saw him kill a mountain lion firsthand. He would be an excellent asset to Hydra.” 

“Awww,” Zemo sneered and grabbed Alpha’s chin, “Are you asking to take your little pet home with you? Don’t you know that Hydra only breeds the purest of German shepherds for missions? It would be uncouth to let a rabid mutt into their ranks. After all, you can never predict what the ones without pedigrees will do.” 

Alpha’s eyes grew wet, but he fought back the tears with all his strength, as did Gamma, and surprisingly, Beta. With one gesture of his head, the Baron ordered the children to get on the helicopter. As they walked in a straight line, Hux barked and followed behind Alpha. 

“No, shoo. Go on now.” Alpha told him half-heartedly. Hux just barked at him again. 

“Stay!” Alpha shouted, but Hux just kept barking. 

“Well,” Baron Zemo pulled a handgun off of his belt and cocked it, “That’s no good.” 

“No!” Alpha stood in front of Hux protectively. 

“I see, so you’d prefer to do it yourself?” The commander placed the gun in his hand, “Good to see you’re finally becoming a soldier. Looks like we prepped Mother Winter to have her memories of you all erased for nothing.” 

Alpha barely grasped the gun, not even moving to look at Hux. He couldn’t see it, but Gamma noticed Baron Zemo hiding a second gun in the hand behind his back. 

“I don’t understand why she was so inconsolable when that other group of minion children died, but it took days to completely wipe them from her memory. For you, though? I assume it would take the blink of an eye. After all, she’s preoccupied at the moment being the wet nurse to my new heir.” 

Alpha still didn’t move. Hux sat right in front of him and he couldn’t even look at him. The gun slowly slipped out of his fingers. 

Before the gun hit the ground, Gamma swiped the second gun out of Zemo’s grip and fired. The bullet went straight through Hux’s ear and out the other side of his skull. The ringing in their ears drowned out the dog’s final whine. 

“Excellent work, Agent Gamma.” Baron Zemo sounded genuinely surprised and placed a hand on her back, “Looks like Prince was right about you. There is more to you than meets the eye.” 

Gamma’s eyes dried up and she turned away from the group, taking her seat on the helicopter. Beta pulled Alpha’s arm to get him in on the bird before it flew away. Baron Zemo sat in the cockpit with the pilot, leaving the Alphabet on their own in the cargo hold. 

For a full hour, they said nothing to each other as they each sat in a different corner. They didn’t even look at each other. Finally, Beta broke the silence with her tears. She bawled into her palms, trying to stop herself but failing. Alpha looked like he was distracting himself by checking the contents of the crate next to him. 

“I didn’t know what he was going to do.” Gamma said quietly. Alpha said nothing, he just kept digging through the box and slipping the things that caught his eye into his pocket. 

“I was trying to save us.” Gamma said loudly. 

“Oh really?!” Beta exclaimed, “You sure you weren’t going for brownie points by doing Alpha’s job for him?!” 

“He wasn’t going to do it!” Gamma shouted, “Zemo was going to kill Alpha because Alpha was never going to kill Hux!” 

“Don’t you DARE say his name!” Alpha threw himself in Gamma’s corner and hoisted her up by her shirt and pressed her into the wall. 

“I know you’re upset, and I know you hate me, but Beta warned you over and over again-Uck!” Gamma was interrupted by a punch to the gut. 

“Just shut up, you fucking runt!” Alpha screamed and threw her to the floor. Her back arched as it hit the steel and sharp pains went through her spine. 

“No.” Gamma got up on her feet, “No! You don’t get to call me that this time! Because I’m the one who had to make the hard call! I’m the one who has what it takes! You may look tough, but you’re the one who would who be dead if it weren’t for some stupid dog!” 

Alpha charged at her with a guttural howl, pulling a hunting knife out of his pocket. He pounced her hard enough to throw the helicopter off balance. She pushed against his chest and thrashed her legs from under him, but she was pinned like a frog to a lab tray. He stuck the blade in the corner of her lip and sawed through her cheek. She hollered and pleaded for him to stop, but she grew more incoherent as the gap of her mouth widened. 

Beta didn’t help her sister. She pressed her knees closer to herself and covered her face, like she was trying to withdraw herself from the world. It wasn’t until they landed that the guards assigned to take the Alphabet back to base were able to pull Alpha off of Gamma. One guard was ordered to take a weeping Gamma to the infirmary while Beta and Alpha were returned to their bunks. 

“If you tell Mama about this, I’ll kill you!” Alpha shouted as three guards held him back, “I swear I’ll kill you!”

* * *

“...And you still had to do missions with him after that?” Arnie asked. 

“What could I do?” Gamma replied, “You of all people know we can’t just get reassigned to a new litter.” 

Arnie shook his head slowly, “Gamma...I’m so sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Gamma swatted her hand, “I didn’t tell you this to get your pity.” 

“And Mama never asked about the scar?” Arnie continued.

“I told her the mountain lion attacked us both.” Gamma shook her head and laughed, “And that Alpha saved me. It was a convenient way to erase Hux out of the story.” 

“Do you think Alpha still…”

“If Alpha still wanted to kill me, he would have tried to when we got word that Hydra fell. We were all posing as faculty at a high school in Manhattan when found out. We were in the teacher’s lounge watching the Helicarriers crash on TV and we all just looked at each other, and...he just walked out. Beta went after him, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to anymore. I went my own way, and they went theirs.” 

“I wish we knew if they were okay.” Arnie said. 

Gamma nodded, “I do,too. Wherever they are, I hope they’re happy. I hope Alpha’s isolated in a wooden cabin somewhere just surrounded by dogs. Just, so many dogs, at least a hundred dogs.” 

Arnie chuckled at the image which made Gamma do the same. As they took comfort in each other’s company, a stealthily placed metallic bird adjusted the cameras in its sockets as it remained perched on a nearby roof. 

“Hmm…” Sam watched the whole scene from the comfort of his room in Avengers Tower as he received the video feed from a prototype drone he received as a gift from Tony, “...so that’s your story.”


	54. Sleeping the Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma finds that her tryst has worked out in her favor after all.

Jemma’s eyes shot open as soon as she remembered where she was. A shift to the side showed her that Libra was already out of bed. She heard the rush of water in the bathroom, which meant that she had time to snoop around. She slipped on her bra and panties and quietly opened the dresser drawers. Delicate silk shirts sat neatly organized, so she carefully poked around them. None of the drawers had secret compartments as far as she could tell, but she did find a picture of Elvis Presley of all people in uniform tucked between them. The picture was thick like cardstock and faded yellow, and it looked like a candid photo taken at a party. Did Libra know Elvis personally? 

When she found nothing else in the drawers, she started browsing through the vanity. In the center drawer, she found a small plastic zip bag of white capsule pills. Jemma quickly dashed around the room looking for her purse to retrieve one of the specimen bags she kept on hand, just in case. Rather than take the whole pill, which Libra would obviously notice was missing, she instead pulled the capsule open and poured a small amount of its powdery contents into the plastic bag. Suddenly, she heard the rushing water stop. She swiftly closed the capsule again, and placed everything back before Libra walked out of the bathroom in a plush white robe with her wet hair over her shoulder. 

“Are you snooping, Dr. Simmons?” Libra slyly looked over her shoulder. 

“I-I-I didn’t think this through at all!” Jemma held the specimen bag tightly in her fist, “I didn’t bring a spare change of clothes, and I can’t wear a cocktail dress to work. It is simply unprofessional!” 

“Calm down,” Libra laughed as she sat down at her vanity and brushed her wet hair, “If you need to go home and change, I can excuse the tardiness. Or, you could wear something of mine if you like. It might be a little big, but you can tuck in the shirt, and flip up the skirt.” 

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Jemma tucked her tossled hair behind her ear, “And I’ll be sure to have them dry cleaned and return them to you at once.” 

“Keep it.” Libra winked at her, “You earned it.” 

Jemma wore a loaner white coat over the tightly belted shirt and skirt she got from Libra. It would definitely be a nice souvenir to hand over to Coulson as soon as she reported back to him. The first thing she did when she got to the laboratory was prep the mystery pill’s contents on a slide and analyze it under a microscope. Based on the abundance of lactose molecules, she concluded that what she’d stolen was powdered milk. However, the ratio of proteins to lipids to carbs told her that this was _breast milk_. She ran more tests on it while simultaneously running her more tedious assignments with her assigned partner, Kenneth. 

“Astounding…” Jemma murmured to herself, “I have never seen oxytocin levels this elevated.” 

“Huh…” Kenneth looked at the unrelated folder for their other milk specimen, “Well, the file just says ‘Bessie.’” 

“You two.” Bakshi interrupted as he walked past them, “Come with me.” 

Jemma and Kenneth looked at each other briefly before following behind him. He took them to a higher level of the building and into a conference room and placed two folders in front of their spots at the table. 

“Look these over.” He ordered coldly, and left them to it. 

Jemma’s hands shook as she opened her folder. Looks like surrendering her dignity had paid off after all. 

“Oh my God…” Kenneth said quietly. 

“What is it?” Jemma took a deep breath and acted calm. 

“That’s Daniel Whitehall.” Kenneth said in an excited tone as he gestured to the platinum-haired man just outside the room, “One of Hydra’s new heads.”

Jemma looked at him in confusion. Daniel Whitehall? Libra and Scorpio Reinhardt’s aliases were Leslie and Spencer Whitehall, what connection did he have to them? Their father was listed as Werner Reinhardt, but the man before her looked too young to be 110 years old. Perhaps he was unrelated to the Zodiacs, and they just borrowed his name for their aliases? 

“Good day.” Daniel Whitehall walked in with Libra and Scorpio by his side and addressed the room, “I’ve brought you here because I need your help.” 

No, the resemblance was far too strong for him not to be at least a half-brother. 

“We recently attempted to reverse engineer the effects of an alien artifact using tissue samples from one of its victims.” Scorpio Reinhardt explained to the team as he pulled up a graphic photo of a corpse that was almost fossilized in place. 

“Unfortunately, the results were less than what we’d hoped for.” Whitehall added. 

“There were positives,” Scorpio continued, like a servant trying to impress his master, “Many of the deceased were enemies of Hydra.”

“Some of us are pleased with these small triumphs.” Whitehall interrupted again, “Others have loftier aspirations...passion, even. Our founder, he had his Tesseract. As for me, well, it would be an understatement to say that I’ve waited my whole life to get possession of the Obelisk, to harness its power...Dr. Simmons, is it?” 

Libra smiled as Jemma jerked her head up from her notes and the whole table turned to her. 

“Yes.” She piped up like a mouse.

“Agent Libra tells me you have a passion for these things yourself.” Dr. Whitehall stared at her coldly, “In your opinion, where did Agent Scorpio go wrong?” 

“I’m...not entirely sure that he did.” Jemma responded, noticing the color shifting in Agent Scorpio’s face and the delight on Libra’s. 

“That’s one among us. Please, clarify.” Dr. Whitehall pressed her further. 

“Well, it’s…” She gathered herself, “It’s just we’re dealing with alien technology. Alien metals interact with biology on a cellular level in a way that’s impossible to replicate without a sample.” 

“But if we were to acquire the Obelisk itself, would it then be possible to weaponize its effects?” He asked. 

“I would think so, yes.” Jemma answered.

“Excellent.” Whitehall practically whispered in a way that reminded her of Libra’s voice around her neck. It made her shiver. 

“I want everyone prepared when we do.” Dr. Whitehall said before he promptly left, with the Zodiac twins following behind him. 

Kenneth sighed in her direction, “He knows _your_ name.” 

“Do you have any idea what this means? We could kill millions of people, perhaps even billions.” Jemma looked away. 

“Pretty awesome, huh?” Kenneth smiled.


	55. The Old Recipe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephanie tries to complete the most domestic of tasks, but is she becoming too relaxed in this setting?

Stephanie walked to the corner market on her own when Michel left to run some errands. All of Mother Winter’s meals were prepped and canned for her, so she had never needed to go grocery shopping. She strolled through the frozen aisle and was amazed at just how many foods that used to take hours to prepare could be ready to eat in a matter of minutes. She was tempted to just buy a frozen pizza and head back, but no, today was going to be the day that she relearned her cooking skills. So she went aisle by aisle, grabbing the most basic ingredients: flour, tomatoes, oregano, basil, yeast, olive oil, romano cheese, mozzarella cheese, garlic, and onion. Sarah Rogers learned the recipe from her Italian neighbors in the early days of her marriage, and then she taught the recipe to Stephanie when she was a young girl. Pizza was that special treat that her mother made during the Depression. 

She walked past the pastries and inhaled the sweet scent of cinnamon butter. She remembered the bakery she’d pass by on her way home from school. When customers opened the door, that smell would waft her way. It ached when she didn’t have the pocket change to get even the smallest treat. When Bucky took her on their first real date, he got her a dozen of their freshly-baked cookies. For now, she settled for a chocolate muffin as a reward for herself after she finished cooking. 

On the walk home, she caught a glimpse of a television inside a laundromat. The news station flashed pictures of her, both as Captain America and Mother Winter, side by side. A jolt smacked her in the chest. She thought that regular news stations would get tired of showing her after a week, but she was still a hot topic. She may have cut her hair, but her face was the same as it had always been, save for the bags under her eyes. Someone with a keen eye would notice. She trembled and looked around at the people passing by. Was anyone looking her way? Usually, traveling with Michel made her look more anonymous, but had she let her guard down too long? When she got too comfortable in her memories, she sometimes forgot that she was still an international fugitive. Still, she couldn’t walk any faster without looking suspicious. Luckily, a few glances around showed no one was looking at her. She was still, thankfully, invisible. 

Michel had still not returned home she arrived. Hopefully, this meant that she could surprise him with a freshly baked pizza. She took a frilly white apron from the drawer and neatly tied it around herself. Making the dough could get especially messy. Water, sugar, salt, yeast, oil, all mixed together in a shiny silver bowl. When she watched her mother do it, she threw a whole bunch of flour in, which just happened to be the right amount. On her first attempt, she tried to copy that move but made a cloud of flour instead. So for her, it was best to add small amounts of flour at a time, slowly whisking to make an even mixture. She added a little more oil to make that flavorful crust she loved. 

Once the dough was nice and soft, she put it to the side to make the tomato sauce. She boiled the small tomatoes until they were easy to peel. Then, she pulled them apart with her hands to weed out the seeds and added salt and olive oil before putting them on the stove. Now she needed some patience. Waiting for the tomatoes liquify was the hardest part for her. She looked down at mess on her hands. Oils and skins coated her fingers. Red juices from the tomatoes sunk into her fingerprints. 

She switched between rolling the dough into a crust and stirring the paste in the oven. She was strong enough to spread the dough very thin on only the first couple of tries. As a child, she could never get the dough thinner than inch, so her mother had to do that part for her. It was also difficult to make a neat circle, so when left on her own, Stephanie would end up with small and thick oval or heart-shaped pizzas. Bucky thought it was hilarious. 

The paste grew thick in the oven, so it was ready to be added to a new mixture of oil, chopped onions, garlic, and more chopped tomatoes. The smell was deliciously homey as the sauce boiled on the stove. A little salt, pepper and basil leaves and the tomato sauce was ready to spread over the crust. 

These days, the pizzas she saw in restaurants and on television were covered in cheese and toppings. Her pizza, however, didn’t need costly pepperonis or sausage to be delicious. She sprinkled a light layer of romano cheese and sliced the mozzarella into large meltable chunks that she strategically placed on the sauce. Some oregano gave it its signature scent and flavor. 

Once she put the pizza in the oven, she immediately started cleaning up her materials. The counters were covered with flour and slick with oil. Michel was very lenient with her, but this mess could have been what grated his patience too far. Everything had always been so tidy since she got there, and now she was leaving messes all over the place. Right as she started wiping the counters, she heard the door open. 

“Ah, please don’t come into the kitchen, it’s not ready y-” Stephanie rushed towards the entrance but stopped when she saw the man who walked through the door was far too young to be Michel. The strange man stopped in his tracks as well and they both stared at each other like deers caught in the headlights. He was slightly shorter than her and had a short but unkempt beard. His brown hair was the same color as his round eyes. He wore a faded brown leather jacket with muddy jeans and carried a forest green laundry bag over his shoulder. 

“[ I’m sorry, is this the wrong place? ]” The man asked in embarassment, “[ I’m not breaking in, I swear, I used a key. Last time I checked, Michel Dumaine lived here? An old man, kind of a stickler? ]” 

“[ He’s out running errands. I’m...his housekeeper. ]” Stephanie used one of her oldest covers in the book. 

The man looked up and down at Stephanie, and her heart raced in fear when he didn’t say anything. She tucked her hands into each other. 

“[...So now he hires a housekeeper. Why didn’t he do that when we still lived here?!]” The man walked past her and dropped his laundry bag in the corner, “[All those years he teased me about my brother doing my laundry for me and now he doesn’t even do it himself.]"

Stephanie relaxed slightly. This was Michel’s son, the free-spirited one it appeared, Matthieu, but did Michel know he was coming today? Why wouldn’t he warn her? If she needed to stay somewhere else for awhile, she could have found a place. 

“[Is that pizza? You cook, too?]” Matthieu asked. 

“Oui, monsieur.” Stephanie responded timidly. 

“[Bah, and he calls me lazy.]” Matthieu took off his jacket and threw it on the couch.


	56. Circuit Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony slowly gets used to having the Winter Soldiers occupy his home.

Tony made the rounds to check on on everyone in his tower. In the rec room, he found two of the Coffee Pots conversing in the hot tub.

“So then he tells me, ‘Well your dad is going to lose his seat,’” Latte explained to Espresso, “And so I’m like ‘No shit, but are we talking prison or what?”

“I mean technically nothing HE did was illegal. He just pushed certain policies which was his job.” Espresso added.

“That’s what I told him! But he was like ‘Something something ‘international secrets’ and ‘treason’ so I was like ‘Seriously? Treason? With what evidence?” Latte continued, adjusting her bikini top.

“Next time, tell him that the actually dangerous commanders are just using him as a scapegoat so that the Supreme Court can pat themselves on the back for doing the bare minimum.” Espresso said as she soaked herself in the warm jets.

“Tell the next lawyer.” Latte grabbed her mimosa from the control panel, “Because I fired that guy.”

“Shit.” Espresso pinched the bridge of her nose, “You know how bad it looks for him to switch lawyers right now? People will definitely call him guilty.”

“Don’t worry, I considered that.” Latte took a sip, “Press is a minor issue here. I’m trading up for someone better at HC&B.”

“Even then, if we’re being realistic, I think a plea bargain will be his best case scenario.” Espresso admitted.

“I think he still has a chance to walk, but fine, whatever, maybe he’ll have to be in a white collar prison for a while, it’s not the end.”

Tony really wanted to butt in about how Senator Stern deserved whatever harsh sentence was coming to him, but he also didn’t feel like being ripped in half by his daughters. Keeping his reputation in the clear was a habit of theirs after all.

He found the cute redheaded one still locked up in her room, and from the hallway he could hear her TV.

_“~Fighting evil by daylight, winning love by moonlight, never running from a real fight, she is the one called Sailor Moon~”_

“Geezus, that just took me back to 1996.” Tony leaned on the open doorway.

  
“That’s the goal.” Decaf sat in an oversized sleeping shirt and athletic shorts, with her thick hair in a loose bun on top of her head. She had a food tray on the bed holding various Japanese candies and pocky, and a bag of Cheetos in her lap.

“You know, I’m surprised to see how any of you could be homebodies. I tell you you’re free to come and go as you please, and you don’t wanna, I don’t know, go somewhere? Go anywhere. Go to the real Japan, don’t just bring it to your cell.” Tony said.

“I’ve seen it. I’ve seen a lot of places.” Decaf responded without taking her eyes off the TV, “Hydra sends you all over the world, but what they don’t let you do is give yourself a staycation for as long as you want.”

“Okay, I get it. Just don’t go stir crazy.” Tony warned before heading to the gym.

There he saw Arnie and not-actually-Gabbie racing on the treadmills. Sam told him about how they snuck out last night, but he didn’t say what they talked about, nor did the Redwing prototype save any footage. Sam told him it wasn’t important anyway. Tony tucked himself behind the wall and watched them from the wall mirror view. He pulled out his phone and logged into the treadmill’s controls to see who was winning. First Arnie was at 20mph, then Gamma overtook him with 25, to which he countered with 30. What they didn’t know was that Tony could manually adjust the treadmills from his phone. So, he decided to have a little fun.

Gamma raised her speed to 35, but with a few presses of a button, Tony adjusted it to 40, and then 50, and then quickly to 60 miles per hour. He heard her scream and skid off the treadmill and crash on the floor. As Arnie jumped off to help her, Tony quickly turned the treadmill off and tiptoed out with muffled giggles.

Next, he stopped by the kitchen to see that Baron was taking advantage of the stocked pantry to cook footlong stacks of pancakes. Ironically, he was wearing the Captain America apron that Tony kept in the rag drawer as a joke. The counter was lined with different flavors: strawberry, chocolate chip, blueberry, banana nut, and classic flapjacks.

“I take it you got a craving?” Tony asked.

“It’s not all for me,” Baron gestured to the two little Soda Liters pulling themselves up to the counter, “They may be small, but they can put away a lot. After all, they’re still growing.”

“Yay, pancakes!” Fanta cheered as she grabbed her plate and pulled one cake of each with her fork. Pibb just pulled the entire plate of chocolate chip pancakes towards himself.

“Hey, you gotta save some for Sprite!” Fanta told him. Pibb ignored her and dug in with his fork.

“You heard her,” Tony approached them with his arms crossed, “Save some for your sister...who is not with you for some reason. Why is that?”

Both Fanta and Pibb held their forks still, biting their lips like they had a dirty secret.

“I’m only going to ask this one more time,” Tony got stern, “Where is Sprite?”

“Sprite made them swear not to tell you,” Baron spoke up as he continued cooking, “but she snuck into your lab about half an hour ago.”

“Baron! You weren’t supposed to tell!” Fanta whined.

“Hey, I didn’t promise her anything.” Baron grinned.

Tony rolled his eyes in exasperation at first, but then it hit him that she could really hurt herself in there, even if she was a super toddler or whatever. He rushed to the elevator, with J.A.R.V.I.S taking him to the floor he detected her to be on. She was on the R&D floor, where he’d been secretly working on new autopiloted suits. If she set one of those off…

She must have heard him coming her way, because when he ran into the lab, she was already out of sight. He rubbed his forehead and blew out a stream of breath. This one loved hide and seek for some reason.

“Okay, olly olly oxen free.” Tony called out, which echoed on the concrete walls. If she didn’t come out on her own, he would have to start looking.

However, as he took a gander under his workbench, he felt a sense of deja vu.

* * *

_**Shortly After the Fall of Hydra** _

_Iron Man and Black Widow got a tip that the agents they were looking for were in the safehouse before them. It was a small cottage in the Midwest, isolated in cornfields and connected to the nearest town by only one dirt road._

_“Should we knock?” Natasha asked._

_Tony kicked the door down with his iron boot, sending the door flying off the hinges._

_“Well that’s not very polite.” Black Widow cocked her gun and held it out cautiously as she entered the silent house._

_“Take the kitchen, I’ll take the upstairs.” Iron Man ordered from behind his titanium mask. His whole suit clunked with every step, which gave the children upstairs plenty of warning to hide._

_“J.A.R.V.I.S, read for heat signatures.”_

_“I detect two body temperatures in the master bedroom, sir.”_

_“Only two? But there’s supposed to be-”_

_Tony heard a young voice screeching downstairs and Natasha trying to calm it, so that meant she found one of them. He slowly stepped into the bedroom, and scanned with his infrared sensors. One little body was scrunched up under the bed, and the other was in the dresser._

_“Olly olly oxen free.” He tried to say calmly so he could hopefully draw them out without a fuss, “I know who you are, and I’m not going to hurt you. Cross my heart.”_

_Nothing. Not even a budge. He couldn’t even hear their breathing._

_“Okay, looks like we gotta do this the hard way.” Tony slowly crept up to the bed. He got on his knees to look under it and saw the bottom of a small pair of shoes facing his way, while the rest of the child was completely still. He grabbed the child’s foot and slide her out from under the bed which made her scream bloody murder. She burst into hysterics as he stood up and dangled her upside down._

* * *

 

Tony heard that terrified scream in his head again.

“Okay, I’ll admit.” He said in no direction in particular, “Our first meeting was pretty rough. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have scared you. I’m a big meanie.”

He looked around and finally noticed something unfamiliar on the ground near his scrap pile. He walked over and picked up what looked like a headband with kitty ears on it. However,the ears themselves were made of conductive plates, and there were wires connecting them to a circuit board dangling off the side.

“Did...did you make this?” Tony asked, “This isn’t half bad, are you trying to make the ears light up?”

Finally, Sprite crawled out of her hiding spot from behind the scrap pile.

“I was trying to make the ears move on their own.” She said quietly, “Like a real cat.”

“Well, it’s a good start, but it needs a little work.” Tony said, holding her mechanical project delicately, “Do you mind if I...give you a few pointers?”

“Are you gonna make it work for real?” She asked, her hope overpowering her fear.

“Actually, you’re going to make it work. I’m just going to make sure you don’t hurt yourself, or else Cap will kill me.” Tony smiled and gestured her to come over. She hesitated for a moment, but then rushed to his side with an excited giggle.


	57. Expired Milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The walls of Hydra are slowly closing in on Jemma, and the rest of Coulson's team may be in danger as well. Adapted from Agents of SHIELD S2E5 "A Hen in the Wolf House"

“I’m surprised it took you so long.” Ward smiled from behind the glass of his cell.

“This isn’t about that.” Skye asserted.

“C’mon Skye, don’t pretend you haven’t thought about what I said.” Ward teased her.

“Yeah, well I’m pretty sure you’re the last person I’d ever want to talk to about my father, or your mother, or any of those...Hydra spawn.” She didn’t believe that he knew anything about her real parents, and she didn’t need or care to know about what life was like for the Captain.

“Not if you want to find them.” Ward insisted.

“My parents were killed in the Hunan province along with everyone else in their village, and the Winter Soldiers are officially the responsibility of Captain Barnes and Tony Stark.” Skye said matter-of-factly.

“That’s not what happened.” Ward twiddled his fingers, “And that doesn’t mean that they’re out of your hair.”

“I know what you’re doing.” Skye stopped him.

“I’m just trying to help.” Ward defended.

“No, you’re exploiting weak points, looking for a way in.”

“I told you, I will never lie to you…” Ward held his hands up, “...not again.”

“Okay, if you’re really being honest.” Skye played along, “Name your source.”

“What?”

“If you have information about my father or a tip that the Winter Soldiers are a current threat to my team, tell me where it came from.” Skye shrugged, “It’s that simple.”

Ward nodded and looked at her with a straight face, “Raina.”

Skye laughed in disbelief.

“She knows him, Skye.” Ward insisted, “And she has direct contact with Hydra-”

“No, I believe that you think she does,” Skye said, “Oh, do you not get it? Raina played you. She found your weakness and then used it against you.”

“Skye-”

“Shut up, Ward.” Skye interrupted, “I don’t want to hear you say another word about it, any of it.”

He nodded.

“Good.”

* * *

  
Jemma scurried out of that meeting at the first chance she could, hoping not to run into that dreadful Desdemona on her way out. She used her lunch break to walk out to the nearby park and send a message back to S.H.I.E.L.D on a flexible transparent datapad.

“Hydra pursuing Alien WMD Technology. Must act quickly to prevent Extinction-level event.” Jemma looked around nervously, “Awaiting further instructions...Fish tacos.”

Once she uttered the keywords, the datapad disguised itself as an empty brown bag with the logo from a local Mexican restaurant on it. From there, she disposed of it in the trash can, leaving no trail of her messages. Or at least, that’s what she thought.

Not even an hour after she returned to work, the alarms blared throughout the whole laboratory. Everyone stood at attention as Bakshi and a tall, dark-haired woman marched past the tables.

“Everyone, listen up,” Bakshi ordered, “I need each of you to step away from your desk and place your hands behind your back.”

“Keep everyone off their phones and tablets.” The dark-haired woman announced, “We have a mole, ladies and gentlemen, right here in our very facility.”

The woman pulled the discarded datapad off of her clipboard, “Someone has been sending S.H.I.E.L.D messages right under our noses. I specialize in finding them. Bakshi here...well, he makes them suffer. Until that happens, no one leaves.”

Jemma’s heart beat painfully as the armed guards began rifling through their drawers. Out of the corner of her eye, she looked at the spare datapads that would easily give her away. She kept her face still to hide her guilt. There was too much at risk for her to be found out now. Not only was her own life at risk, but the whole population could be wiped out if they succeeded in their mission. She had to make a move, and fast.

“Hydra does not tolerate traitors.” Bakshi declared, “Anyone caught in possession of contraband will be punished accordingly.

“Dr. Jemma Simmons,” The tall woman called her out personally while reading from her IPad, “This is quite an impressive résumé. S.H.I.E.L.D Academy, top of your class, two PhDs in very advanced fields. It even says here you spent time in the field as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent. Is that correct?”

Jemma smiled, “Only a short time.”

“No.” The woman corrected her, “You’ve only been in Hydra a short time, but it seems that you’ve been affiliated with S.H.I.E.L.D in one capacity or another for most of your life.”

Jemma really only wanted to use the excuse that she had drunk the Mother Winter milk as a last ditch effort so she started with, “To be fair, aren’t most Hydra agents ex-S.H.I.E.L.D operatives?”

“Who were working from within S.H.I.E.L.D long before it fell.” The woman wasn’t convinced, “But there’s no evidence you supported Hydra while S.H.I.E.L.D still existed. In fact, it seems you were an exemplary S.H.I.E.L.D agent, perhaps even still are.”

Jemma sighed, “My loyalties are with Hydra...because Mama protects us from the monsters.”

“Hm, well Mama isn’t here anymore, so I’ll be the judge of that.” She said as she opened Jemma’s drawer, finding it empty besides her Hydra files and her lab equipment.

“Madam, there’s something you have to see.” One of the guards held up the datapad, which he found in Kenneth’s drawer instead of Jemma’s.

“Wait! Wait, that’s not mine!” Kenneth stammered immediately, “I-I-I’ve never seen that before in my life! I don’t even know what that is!”

Jemma knew he was telling the truth, but he couldn’t have picked a more guilty-sounding cliche. The woman gestured to the guards, who whacked him in the back of the head with a nightstick, knocking him unconscious so they could drag him away with ease. Jemma tried to ignore her guilty by remembering the awful thing he said in the conference room, about how delighted he was to hear they had the potential to murder billions of innocent people. For all she knew, he probably was the type to have Mother Winter pictures saved to his desktop. For that, she could forgive herself for betraying him.


	58. Reading the Air

Stephanie tried to focus on the pizza in the oven instead of the surprise guest in the living room. Hopefully, he would do what most people did when she pretended to be a maid, ignore her. Unfortunately, Michel’s son was far too friendly to do such a thing. 

“[So what’s your name?]” Matthieu asked, as he leaned against the kitchen island next to her. 

“Sofia.” She pulled from her catalogue of aliases. 

“Ah, Sofia.” He crossed his arms and nodded his head, “[Sofia...Sophie...in Greek, it means ‘Wisdom.’ Do you consider yourself a wise woman, Sofia?]” 

“Mmm...” Stephanie scrunched up her nose and shook her head. 

“[Oh, c’mon, why do you say that.]” He laughed, “[You look like the type who is wiser beyond her years.]” 

“[What makes me look like that?]” She bit her lip. 

“[Your eyes...your aura…]” He pointed to his head, “[I have a keen sense for these things.]” 

Stephanie just nodded politely and kept her eyes on the pizza. 

“[So where are you from?]” He asked. 

“[I think you should let your senses figure it out.]” She smiled. 

“Hmmm…” Matthieu circled around her,”[Well, definitely not French. German? Swedish? No...Something a little more Eastern...Oh, I got it. You’re Belarusian.]” 

Stephanie giggled and covered her mouth in amusement. 

“[Did I get it right?]” He asked in anticipation. 

“[Now that’s a secret.]” Stephanie said playfully. 

The door opened again, and this time it really was Michel coming through the front door, with a bag full of groceries. 

“[Ah! Let me go those for you!]” She exclaimed and rushed over to Michel before he had the chance to say a word and blow her cover. When she got close enough she whispered, “My name is Sofia, you hired me two months ago as your housekeeper, and you don’t know where I’m from.” 

“Pourquoi?” Michel whispered back. 

Stephanie gestured to their guest in the kitchen. Michel didn’t need to see the man himself, he figured it out once he saw the coat on the couch. 

“Matthieu.” Michel sighed and grinned as he handed his bags to Stephanie and hugged his boy,”[You didn’t call ahead.]” 

“[I dropped my phone in the Yangtze River.]” Matthieu said, “[You didn’t tell me you hired someone.]” 

“[It’s only been for a couple of months. It’s mainly to have someone to talk to.]” Michel told him. 

“[And cook for you, apparently.]” Matthieu added. 

“[...I’m an old man, I can’t do everything anymore.]” Michel looked at Stephanie, since she had forgot to mention that detail. 

Stephanie huffed. That was supposed to be a surprise. She grabbed Matthieu’s laundry bag from the corner, “[I’ll take care of this while you two catch up.]” 

“[You don’t have to do that.]” Michel reached out of habit. 

“[Of course I do.]” She tried to subtly remind him, “[I have to earn my living after all.]” 

Stephanie quickly took the large sack to the laundry room and sorted out the laundry to calm herself. If she gathered her few belongings and cleaned Adeline’s room before Matthieu noticed, she could leave after her “hours were up” and take refuge somewhere else for now. But then, she remembered the televisions on the street. They still showed her face on a daily basis. Even with her new haircut, it was too much of a risk. Looks like she had to play the live-in maid. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, Matthieu got a better look at her than she had wanted, but he still didn’t recognize her. 

The oven beeped. The pizza was done. She washed swampy musk scent off of her hands after she finished sorting the man’s sweat-stained shorts and shirts. She put on her cheerful smile and returned to the kitchen. She adorned her hands with oven mitts and pulled the thin pizza out of the oven, taking in the hot scent of the cheese and tomatoes. She cut the pie into six slices with a sleek knife and brought the circular dish to the dinner table. 

“Bon appétit.” She said quietly as she served dinner. She turned around to walk away, but Matthieu stopped her. 

“[Come on, Sophie, won’t you eat with us?]” Matthieu asked.  
“[Oh no, that’s alright.]” She replied. 

“[You don’t need to be shy, Sofia.]” Michel insisted, “[You deserve to taste the fruits of your effort.]” 

Michel must’ve trusted Matthieu to keep Stephanie’s secret safe, if he would ever figure it out at all. So she trusted Michel’s judgement and took a seat. She served the food on the nice plates Michel kept on the table. 

“[This looks wonderful.]” Michel complimented the chef. 

“[It’s has this very rustic look to it, I like it.]” Matthieu added as he took a bite. 

“[So is this a visit or do you plan to move back to Paris?]” Michel asked. 

“[Just a visit,]” Matthieu wiped dripping sauce out of his beard with a napkin, “[I signed up to volunteer in Nigeria for the next couple of months.]” 

“[Doing what?]” Stephanie asked, joining into the conversation. 

“[Building sustainable housing for the impoverished. So that less people will have to sleep on the streets.]” Matthieu explained. 

“[When did you learn how to build a house?]” Michel asked. 

“[It’s a team effort, I signed up to help mix the cement.]” Matthieu answered, “[It seems like a small part, but it’s rewarding, you know? How doing something small can help a bigger cause. Wouldn’t you agree, Sofia?]” 

Stephanie shrugged, “[I guess I’ve had some experience with that...in my younger days. And yes, it is...rewarding.]” 

Matthieu chuckled, “[Younger days, as if you were older than 35.]” 

Michel smiled knowingly and sipped his drink. 

“[Oh, we should call Lucas and tell him I’m in town.]” Matthieu suggested, “[Is he still working in Stuttgart?]” 

“[Yes, but it’s 6 hours by train],” Michel said, “[It’d be a sudden notice, maybe too sudden.]” 

“[Ah, he’d probably kill the time doing his paperwork, it’d be nothing to him.]” Matthieu said, “[Besides, it’d be nice to have the men all back together.]”  
“[Maybe another time. Like when you’re here more permanently.]” Michel insisted. 

“[Come on, Papa. Why are you so reluctant?]” Matthieu got up and reached for the landline phone, “[I thought you said you needed people to talk to.]” 

Michel tried to reach for the phone, but Matthieu was a quick dialer. He just looked at Stephanie apologetically as Matthieu called his brother and invited him back home.


	59. The Cold Hard Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky tries to get a better handle of the children in his care, but they have their ways of surprising him.

Bucky sat cross-legged on his bed with a scotch in one hand and a parenting book in the other. Bucky had already picked up that being a parent these days was different from when he was growing up, but he was thankful that the library had several books that pertained to his unusual situation. Next to him was a whole stack, one for parenting adopted or foster children, one for children with a parent in jail, and some on adopting children from unstable households. 

One of the first key points was that the children needed to feel safe. So far, he thought they had done that. The Tower was highly secured, and the Liters were surrounded by some of their older siblings to comfort them. Sprite seemed to handle it the best, always exploring and questioning things. Fanta seemed to cling to him like a security blanket sometimes. Pibb, however, was taking it the hardest. He seemed to have trouble connecting to people. Bucky was especially concerned because once the summer was over, he had every intention to send them to school like normal children. 

Another key point that many of the books stated was that you shouldn’t lie to to the kids. If and when they find out that you lied, you have betrayed their trust in you. That was harder for Bucky to figure out. He didn’t even know how much they’d been through already, how was he supposed to explain the ugly truths they didn’t know yet? 

He finished his glass and set aside his book. He stretched and looked in the mirror, and finally noticed the toll this ordeal was taking on his body. The bags under his eyes were darkening and he could see the veins up close. His brown hair had grown past his ears and was shiny with natural oils. His lips and chin were growing stubble, since he hadn’t made a public appearance as the clean-shaven Captain America in a while. He still couldn’t deal with the press and all their horrible, invasive questions just looking to spark a controversy and sell articles. 

He finally left his room to wander and check on everyone. He found Arnie and Gamma on his floor’s kitchen, with Arnie putting frozen peas on Gamma’s cheek. 

“What happened?” Bucky asked. 

“She fell off the treadmill.” Arnie explained, while Gamma hissed at the cold touch. 

“How did that happen?” Bucky crossed his arm. 

“It malfunctioned and went way too fast.” Gamma took the pack from Arnie to do it herself, “Caught me off guard.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, “I’ll talk to Tony about it.” 

“You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fine.” Gamma insisted. 

“No, I do have to. If it’s dangerous, we have to take care of it before someone else gets hurt.” Bucky turned and headed for the elevator, “I’ll throw the damn thing out myself if I have to.” 

He tapped his foot anxiously all to the way to Tony’s lab floor. Honestly, he could only handle the man in small amounts, and he didn’t know how much patience he’d have for him today. When he walked down the hallway though, he heard childish laughter. He turned the corner, and to his surprise, he saw Sprite sitting next to Tony and screwing in bolts into a small device. Tony was showing her how to fix it. 

Tony looked up when he felt Bucky enter and told him, “Oh, I’m sorry, this is the smart kids table. No jocks allowed.” 

Sprite covered her face as she giggled. Bucky smiled at the pure sound and almost forgot what he came down there for. 

“And make sure you put your hair up when you work, you don’t want it to catch on fire.” Tony said as he made a ponytail for her with a rubber band. 

“What are you working on?” Bucky asked Sprite. 

“It’s a...secret…” Sprite giggled again as she covered it with her hands. 

“Oh, a surprise? Well, I can’t wait to see when it’s done.” Bucky patted her head. 

“What’s up, Cap? I mean…” Tony rarely called him anything else since Bucky, ironically, didn’t take to his nicknames too well, “...Mr. Barnes?” 

“...Treadmill’s busted.” Bucky put it succinctly. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m recalibrating it as we speak. I don’t know what happened to it, it usually works so well-” Tony blabbed on.

“Good.” Bucky nodded, “Just try not to let it happen again.” 

“Point taken.” Tony looked at him and gestured to the little girl, “You know? I think I like this one.” 

Bucky nodded as he left them to their little project. He smiled in the elevator. It was good to see Tony finally lightening up around them, even after the firecracker they had recently brought in. Now he had to check on the other two. J.A.R.V.I.S told him they were on the recreational floor watching TV. 

Once he got there, he saw Fanta sleeping on the couch and Pibb with his eyes glued to the TV. He expected him to be watching cartoons or sitcoms, but the boy’s face didn’t look amused. As Bucky got closer, he listened in and realized the boy was watching the news. His heart skipped a beat in fear as he rushed for the remote and quickly changed the channel. 

“No! Change it back! They were gonna talk about my mom!” Pibb exclaimed loudly. 

Bucky bit his lip. This was exactly what he was afraid of.

“You’re not going to like what they have to say about your mom.” Bucky tried to explain to him. 

“Why? What are they gonna say?” Pibb asked in frustration. 

Bucky rubbed his forehead. He set himself up for that one, “They’re going to say...that your mom is a bad person because she did some bad things. But the thing is...she didn’t mean to do those bad things, someone made her do it.” 

Pibb looked down fumbled with his fingers, and then he asked, “Did someone make my dad do bad things too?” 

Bucky rubbed his metal hand down his face. He’d been dreading this since he discovered Hydra had children this young in their clutches. 

“If someone made my dad do bad things, then it’s not his fault and he shouldn’t be in jail.” Pibb stated. 

“Come here…” Bucky said gently as he sat down with Pibb and put his hands on his shoulders, “Pibb...maybe your dad was made to do some bad things...but we also know...that some of those bad things...he did them on purpose. He hurt a lot of people on purpose, so they had to put him in prison so that he can learn his lesson.” 

“How long is it gonna be?” Pibb asked. 

Bucky’s breath shook as he rubbed the boy’s arm, “It’s going to be a long time, Pibb.” 

The boy’s eyes teared up, “HOW long?” 

Bucky felt a lump in his throat, “I don’t know. At least a few years.” 

“No!” Pibb yelled, “That’s too long! You...You’re lying!” 

Pibb slapped Bucky across the face and ran into the bathroom. Bucky tried to open the door, but it was locked. If he really needed to, he could ask J.A.R.V.I.S to unlock the door automatically, but he decided against it. He never expected the child to take it well, so it was best to give him his space for now. He would either calm down or fall asleep, whichever came first. That’s when Bucky would go get him. As he turned around, he was shocked to see Fanta standing calmly behind him, rubbing her tired eyes. How much of that had she overheard? 

“Hey Fanta…” Bucky said nicely. 

“Hi.” She said sleepily, “Is Pibb in the bathroom again?” 

“Yes, he just needs to cool down for a bit.” Bucky told her. 

“I know. He’s mad because Daddy’s in jail.” Fanta said surprisingly calmly. Bucky honestly didn’t expect that from her, so he was genuinely curious as to why. 

“And how do you feel about that, Fanta?” Bucky asked. 

Fanta swiveled around as she thought about it, “Mmm...I don’t know.” 

“It’s okay to be upset.” Bucky said. 

“I know…” Fanta said, “But Daddy hurt Mommy a lot...so I don’t know if I want him to come back.” 

With that, the little girl returned to the couch to continue her sugar crash nap. Bucky sat with her until she fell asleep, staring at the TV in awe.


	60. Covers Blown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The jig is up, but Jemma can't make it out alive without help from an unexpected source.

Jemma hid herself in the bathroom. Maybe she could make use of her new ally and get Libra to vouch for her. Maybe the Kafka boy, Lear, could help her. If she was found out now, no one from S.H.I.E.L.D could possibly save her in time. She pushed all the panic back into herself and put on a smile.

“Everything’s going to be just fine.” She said to herself in her cheeriest voice. She flushed the toilet and left the stall, but the tall dark-haired lady from before approached her immediately, sending her aback.

“Don’t you seem nervous.” The woman leaned against the tile and crossed her arms.

“Well…” Jemma laughed, “...maybe it has something to do with you lurking outside of my stall.”

“Bakshi informed me that you and Kenneth were lab partners.” The woman got down to business quickly.

“We’d worked together on a couple of assignments, yes.” Jemma answered honestly.

“Well, there are some who believe he may not have been acting alone.” The woman tilted her head, “Were you colluding with Kenneth?”

Jemma brushed her hands against the bottom of her shirt. She still wasn’t out of this yet. She chuckled “No” as she pushed her hair behind her ear and slightly looked away.

“Did you plant the flex screen on Kenneth’s desk?” The woman asked.

“No.” Jemma said, almost frustrated as she looked her in the eyes.

“You’re not a very good liar, are you?” The woman slightly smiled, “Maybe I should take a look at your hard drive. See what I find.”

Now Jemma smiled, “Go right ahead. It’s nothing but Hydra files.”

She tried to walk to the sinks but the woman got in her way.

“Oh, it better be.” She dropped her smile, “I want you to keep something in mind, Agent Simmons. Hydra...is _everywhere_.”

The woman stared Jemma down for a few seconds more before walking away, lightening her voice to say “Carry on.”

Jemma exhaled deeply, and tried to shake the dread off of herself while she washed her hands. She had to be the best little Hydra scientist she could be. She had to milk the “Hydra baby” title for all it’s worth. Maybe even initiate a second date with Libra. If she was really really lucky, maybe she could get Desdemona to warm up to her, and then she’d have another one of them on her side.

After she left the bathroom, however, she discovered all these plans were for naught. As she returned to her station, she saw all the other scientists whispering amongst themselves as they stared at her. At first she thought it was just because they knew she worked with Kenneth, but when she looked at her computer screen, she finally saw what they saw. A picture of her, sitting with her flex screen communicator, obviously revealing her to be the spy.

Her heart pounded through her ears. The world became wobbly and slowed down as she circled around nervously. She tried to remember the best escape route from this floor, but her thought process was interrupted when she saw Bakshi and Libra standing at the end of the lab with armed guards beside them.

“There she is. Grab her!” Bakshi commanded as Libra stood coldly with pursed red lips. The guards charged towards her, so Jemma just followed her basic instinct and ran.

She ran through empty white hallway after empty white hallway until she found the doorway to the staircase. They probably expected her to travel to the ground floor, but she’d rather take her chances leaping from a window from a higher floor. It might throw them off, and falling from great heights was a part of her field training with S.H.I.E.L.D.

She ran up the spiralling staircase as fast as she could, but suddenly she saw a silvery flash in front of her eyes and felt the cold grip of a thin wire around her neck. She stopped running when she felt the wire clip her skin as it tightened around her throat. She gasped for air when she could, and turned around to see Desdemona scowling with the wire looped over her hands like a lasso.

Without another word, Mona kicked Jemma over the edge of the railing while keeping a grip on the wire. Jemma quickly tried wedge her fingers in between the wires to give herself some room to breathe, but her throat only grew tighter as the wire jolted to a stop. Her legs kicked around wildly as she dangled over the staircase, with Mona looking down on her like a vulture. Her face grew red and dangerously purple as her blood vessels came close to bursting.

Then, Jemma heard a loud bonk as she saw someone bash Mona over the head with a baton. It wasn’t enough to knock her out, but the person continued to attack Mona until she broke her grip on the wire and let it slip through her fingers, which let gravity lower Jemma down to the bottom floor and finally free her neck from bondage.

Jemma’s eyes watered as she coughed and gasped for air. Eventually, she was able to get back on her feet, and by that time, her savior had leaped down the staircase to her aid. Once Jemma’s vision cleared, she gasped again when she saw the dark-haired woman who had been interrogating her this whole time.

“What...is happening?” Jemma asked as she got her breathing back.

“Don’t worry.” The woman suddenly sounded a lot friendlier as she put her hand on Jemma’s back and led her towards a new escape route, “Coulson has a plan.”

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, because I am truly grateful, but who are you?” Jemma asked as they ran.

“Bobbi Morse. Coulson sent me in to infiltrate Hydra and keep an eye on you.” The woman answered.

“Well, you did a spot-on job. Really, you were quite intimidating.” Jemma told her.

“Sorry about that. I had to assess other security issues that were in play.” Bobbi explained.

“Yeah, like every Hydra agent receiving an e-mail blowing my cover?” Jemma asked.

“Yeah, that was a curve ball.”

“And the fiery teenager literally hanging me?” Jemma added.

“No, that was expected.” Bobbi shook her head.

“How did you subdue a real Winter Soldier?” Jemma asked.

“I didn’t. I just distracted her long enough for you to get yourself free. We should probably run faster, by the way.”

“I’m afraid there’s no way I’m walking out that front door.” Jemma said.

“Okay, don’t worry, all we have to do is get to the roof. There’s already an extraction team there waiting.” Bobbi explained.

When they hit a corner, Bobbi told Jemma to wait as she took care of the guards standing watch, trying to maintain her cover, but Jemma heard the quick pattering of footsteps and saw Desdemona and Libra making their way. She realized she didn’t have time to wait, so she joined Bobbi who had to forgo her cover and knock the guard out before he could shoot Jemma.

“I told you there was a plan!” Bobbi said.

“I know, I’m sorry, but-!” Jemma gestured to their two big problems in the hallway.

“Okay, just get to the roof.” Bobbi pushed Jemma on as she marched down the hallway to take care of the Winter Soldiers herself.

“Oh Agent Morse, not you, too.” Libra moaned as she pulled a throwing knife from her stocking, “And after such a nice evening by the fireplace.”

Bobbi just smirked and pulled out her batons. She blocked their swift attacks with her quick reflexes, but she noticed their own defensive reflexes were slower than usual. On their best days, Libra and Mona would take Bobbi out easily, but something wasn’t right about them now. Their minds were fuzzier and less focused. Bobbi eventually managed to knock them both down and buy herself enough time to escape.

Meanwhile, Jemma made it to the roof, but didn’t see the extraction team Bobbi promised. As she muttered to herself how trapped they were, Bobbi came running behind her shouting over her comm that they were at the southwest corner. The guards were shooting at her, so they didn’t have time wait. Bobbi ordered Jemma to get down as she fired back at the men on their tail.

“There’s no one there!” Jemma shouted as Bobbi grabbed her arm to run.

Without letting go, Bobbi jumped over the roof’s edge and took Jemma with her. She screamed as they fell more stories than she could imagine, but they were swiftly caught by a shielded force that blended in with the scenery. The extraction team had been waiting for her after all, and the quinjet briefly went off stealth mode to let her and Agent Morse find the hatch. Once they dropped inside, they took off again, away from Hydra’s headquarters.

“Welcome back, Agent Simmons.” A familiar voice greeted Jemma.

“Trip, it’s so good to see you!” Jemma was incredibly relieved to see a familiar face and to finally meet a new one that was one of the good guys, “You certainly know how to make a first impression, Agent Morse.”

“Please, it’s just Bobbi.”

“Forgive me for asking, but if you were able to infiltrate Hydra, why even bother having me go in?”

“My cover gave me access to Hydra security but none of its high-level projects.”

“Then I’m afraid I came up empty-handed.” Jemma said, somewhat ashamed.

“Not entirely.” Bobbi pulled a metal component from her pocket.

“My hard drive.” Jemma said in surprise.

“I took it after our conversation in the bathroom.” Bobbi said proudly, “Seemed like it might provide some useful intel.”

“Oh, do be careful.” Jemma bit her lip, “There are some...unpleasant files on that thing that I couldn’t erase without raising suspicions.”

“I think I know.” Bobbi groaned, “Even security was given access to... _those_ files.”


	61. The Oldest Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arrival of the oldest boy might put Stephanie's stay in France to an end.

Stephanie rubbed her face as she watched the washing machine spin continually. The smart thing would be to run and start over before the risk got too great, but she couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to abandon Michel like this, and where could she go where she would feel this safe and comfortable?

Lucas would arrive by morning, and she got lucky that Matthieu was oblivious. Lucas was an accountant, which mean that he had an eye for detail. Of course, for all she knew, that only applied to numbers and charts and not people’s faces. Only one person could tell her for certain.

She waited until Matthieu was secluded in his room, which now gave off whiffs of jasmine incense. She joined Michel in the kitchen as he washed the dishes, standing shoulder to shoulder with him. She took a clean rag and wiped the plates he rinsed.

“Should I be worried?” She asked him quietly.

Michel shook his head, “Lucas never paid much attention to the...lore surrounding you. He respects Captain America, but he got bored of the story after the first hundred times he heard it. I don’t even know if he’s following the news these days.”

“It’s everywhere though.” Stephanie countered.

“Yes, but he tends to drown out every shocking story unless it involves stocks falling.” Michel scrubbed the crispy brown crumbs off the serving dish, “He hasn’t even had a girlfriend since his freshman year at uni. His mind runs on one track.”

It was a valiant effort, but Steph still felt uneasy. Still, she trusted Michel and went to bed and fought the temptation to flee in the night. Running away was a lot easier when she wasn’t in the company of people who actually knew her.

When morning came, she fell into her old routine of playing the maid. Her body cooked a breakfast of crepes and waffles and set the table with matching plates and ceramic forks and knives. Her mind slipped into a defensive trance. She didn’t think about the panic or else it would consume her.

When there was a knock at the door, she looked around for Michel to grab it first, but he was still in his room. Matthieu, however, had risen early and was eating his breakfast in the living room, in full view of the door. She couldn’t just ignore it in front of him. So she put on her weak smile and walked to it, slowly grabbing the doorknob and inhaling as she opened it.

“Bonjour, Monsieur.” She greeted politely as she looked at the tall and slender man, who was pale with dark hair and a long nose like his father.

The man dropped his briefcase and widened his eyes in a silent gasp.

  
“[You...You're Captain America.]” He pointed at her directly.

The smart thing to do would have been to deny it with a laugh and a hand wave, but she was so disturbed to hear him say it out loud in the open that, without thinking, she shoved her hand over his mouth and pulled him inside.

She let him go only to scramble to lock and bolt the door shut. Her shaking hands made fists against the door.

“I knew it…” She muttered to herself as her heart sank.

“[You’re on the news. And you’re here?]” Lucas quickly turned to his brother on the couch, “[Captain America is in our home and you didn’t tell me this over the phone?]”

“Lucas,” Matthieu hard swallowed, “[Calm down. That’s not Captain America. Her name is Sofia, and she’s dad’s new housekeeper.]”

“[Don’t talk to me like I’m dumb. I know Captain America when I see her! Especially after I’ve been looking at this my entire life.]” Lucas pulled the photo of the Captain and their grandmother off of the mantle and gave it to Matthieu for closer inspection.

“[But, brother, c’mon. She’s been dead for decades. The new Captain America is the husband, remember?]” Matthieu said.

While the brothers argued it out, Stephanie whisked herself to her room to pack up her things.

“[Mattie, this is not new knowledge. They found out she was alive months ago. She’d been used as an agent for Hydra this whole time, and now she’s a fugitive.]”

“[I haven’t even been near a TV since last year. So sorry, I didn’t know. That still doesn’t mean Sofia is her.]”

“[If she’s not her, then when did she panic instead of correcting me?]”

“[Because you scared her! You’re a scary man!]”

Finally, Michel caught wind of the noise and rushed out of his room, “[Boys, boys. Is this how you greet each other?]”

“[Papa, tell Lucas that your housekeeper is Captain America and that you’re harboring her from the law.]” Lucas said.

Stephanie tucked herself in the corner behind her room’s door as she waited for his response.  
Michel hesitated for a moment, looking between his boys before he asserted Lucas with an authoritve tone, “[Stephanie Barnes is a guest, and you will treat her with the respect you owe her.]”

“[Papa, I know what she means to you, but did you ever think of the danger?!]”

“[Wait, wait, she really IS Captain America?!]”

Stephanie’s stomach fluttered to hear Michel defend her, but she also couldn’t take hearing this conversation anymore. She wasn’t just his responsibility now, it was between him and his family. She clutched her bag and exited her room, with all their eyes falling on her as the door creaked. All three men were silent.

“I...I should go.” She decided she might as well speak in English if the cat was already out of the bag.

“Stephanie, please stay.” Michel said, his eyes pleading desperately. She shuttered. Leaving on these terms would break the old man’s heart, which was the last thing she wanted to do. She contemplated for a few more moments of silence. Then, she dropped her bag on the floor.

“I’m going for a smoke.” She said as she pulled a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from the kitchen drawer.

“I didn’t know you smoke.” Michel said, as his sons remained frozen in their places.

“Now I do.” She said as she tucked them in her jacket pocket and unlocked the front door.

“I’ll bring them back, I promise.” She said before she left their home.

* * *

  
She paced quickly down the streets illuminated by the night lanterns. Her thumb slipped along the lighter’s wheel a couple times but she couldn’t get it to ignite. She’d never been experienced at this. Mother Winter wore a mask; Captain America had to be a good role model of the children; and Stephanie Barnes just plain hated the scent of it. Bucky was allowed to smoke, but not in the apartment. If he was going to have a smoke break, he had’ve to take it outside or keep it at work.

She stopped and took a seat on the bench to focus on getting a light. She held the cigarette in one hand and fiddled with the lighter in the other. She didn’t even notice that someone sat next her to until his big strong hands took both the stick and the lighter.

“Allow me.” He said as his rough calloused thumb rolled down and sparked a light immediately. The fire illuminated his face, but she already knew who he was from his voice.  
“Roman…” She gasped and held her hands aback.

His hand went to her cheek, “I missed you, Mama.”


	62. Bottled Feelings

Pibb ended up falling asleep on the bathroom floor, so Bucky had to unlock the door to put him to bed. He didn’t know whether or not he had done the right thing. The books made it clear not to lie to the kids, but maybe Pibb was too young to understand the truth. Fanta already knew more than she should have, and it broke his heart. He had to do something to make it better for them. 

The next morning, Bucky made a few phone calls to Tony’s legal staff. Then, he got pencils, markers and paper together and gathered the Soda Liters to his floor. 

“So I had a talk with the lawyers this morning, and they told me that if you want to, you can write a letter to you dad.” Bucky told them. 

“For real?” Pibb asked. 

“Yes, for real.” 

“What do you want us to write?” Fanta asked. 

“It doesn’t matter, this is your letter. You can write whatever you want.” Bucky explained. 

“Are you going to read them?” Pibb asked. 

“No, that would be a breach of confidentiality.” Bucky shook his head, “The only thing I’ll do is fold them, put them in an envelope and mail them.” 

Pibb got to work right away, scribbling in big letters that Bucky couldn’t read even if he tried. Fanta was slower and more careful with her pencil, but it was still barely legible. So it looked like Hydra didn’t teach penmanship this early. Sprite ignored the pencils and reached for the markers instead. Rather than writing words, she chose to draw pictures. When her siblings saw her drawing, they copied her and grabbed markers as well. They added pictures to their letters. 

Pibb used five sheets of paper and didn’t bother asking how to spell anything. Fanta, however, asked Bucky how to spell “judge” and “disappointed.” She must have been very serious about her points since she used the red marker to underline certain words. 

“Okay, all done?” Bucky asked when each of the kids seemed stalled, “Make sure to sign your name.” 

Pibb and Fanta handed in their finished work, but Sprite hung on to hers. 

“Sprite, don’t you have something you want to send to your dad?” Bucky asked. 

“Mmm…” The little girl rubbed her mouth and played with her hair, “...Nah. I just felt like drawing.” 

“Okay, that’s fine, too.” Bucky assured her, but remained puzzled to himself. He didn’t want to remind her that she wasn’t going to see her father again for a very long time, but he had a feeling she knew that and just didn’t have anything to say to him. At least, not yet. 

Bucky sealed all the letters in a manila envelope and addressed it properly. Even writing the man’s name got his blood boiling. He had to remind himself that this for was for the children’s sake, and nothing more. On his way to the mailbox a few blocks down, he realized that if he even tried to write back, that would make things more difficult. Bucky decided that he would allow the kids to see it, but he’d have to read it himself first. He needed to be wary if Jack was trying to send them any dangerous messages. 

When he came back to the Tower, he looked on the highest shelf of the kitchen cupboard for the bourbon, but it was gone. They must have run out on that floor, so he checked the next floor, and the next, and the next. All of the liquor was missing. He looked under his own bed, and even his private stash was gone. 

“Natasha!” Bucky called out, “J.A.R.V.I.S? Where’s Natasha?” 

_“At a hair appointment, sir.”_

“Yeah, that’s convenient. More importantly, where’s the damn booze?” 

_“Mr. Stark and Ms. Romanoff decided it was best to...cut you off.”_

“What?!” Bucky exclaimed running his hands through his hair, “The Hell’s Kitchen thing was weeks ago. I haven’t done anything since then!” 

_“It’s a preventive measure. Your alcohol consumption has increased rapidly over the past few days. If left unchecked, another incident is probable.”_

“What, are they worried I’m going to defend my wife’s name again? Because we can’t have that, can we…” 

_“These restrictions are temporary. Your alcohol privileges will be restored in 10 days time.”_

“Ten days? Come on…” Bucky kicked the frame of his bed.

_“Might I suggest some alternative recreational activities? Yoga, swimming, billiards. Treadmill B-2 has been repaired-”_

“No thanks, J.A.R.V.I.S. I think I’ll just take a nap.” Bucky threw himself on his bed and clutched his pillow. 

_“It’s still before noon, sir.”_

“I know damn well what time it is.” Bucky muttered under his breath, “Piece of shit computer.” 

Without the alcohol to dull his senses, this Captain America was left to face his most dangerous and terrifying foe, his own thoughts. He shut his eyes tightly and slowed his breath to try to fall asleep as fast as possible. Hopefully if he was out, then his brain would go silent. If he could sleep through the next ten days, that would be great. Who knows, maybe he’d wake up to the news that Stephanie was found and she was okay. 

He could still her falling out of his reach. The last time she said anything as herself, she was screaming his name. He should have left capturing the last Hydra base to Peggy and searched for Stephanie himself. He should have known she was strong enough to handle the fall from the mountains. When he fell from the Helicarrier, he wished she had let him drown. It was what he deserved. He failed her as her husband and as her best friend. He wished he had died before he watched the world slander her name. Now he wasn’t sure it was worth saving. 

But Stephanie would have saved it anyway. Stephanie didn’t become Captain America for fame or praise. She felt it was her duty to save people in any way she could. She believed that world was always worth saving, and that people were always worth saving. 

Of all the doctors in Hydra who were found to be complicit in her rape and torture, absolutely none of them had turned up dead yet, and she had been loose for months now. She didn’t even have revenge in heart. From what the kids told him, even as Mother Winter, she always had that capacity for love, but Hydra abused and twisted that love for their own purposes, and yet they could never destroy it. 

And here he was, throwing a tantrum over an alcohol ban. Wherever she was, he hoped she was happy, because she deserved better than coming back to him.


	63. The Hydra Baby Christmas Special Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In 1967, the Winter Soldiers get a break from their usual missions to do something special for the holidays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know it's past Christmas and this is a little late, but I decided I wanted to do something a little different for the Hydra babies in honor of the holidays.

In the 1960’s, when the Cold War escalated, Mother Winter and her soldiers laid low in between missions on an isolated farm in the Ukraine. The children worked the land even though their provisions were provided twice a month when Dr. Faustus visited with a handbasket of groceries and his hypnotic ring on his finger. When the doctor gave their mother her routine treatment, he usually told the younger children to go out and play in the wheatfields. Roman, Charity and Scorpio hoed and plowed the soil for crops that would keep their cover.

In the summers, it was bliss to run through the soft fields of fresh air and bright sun. The mud smelled nicer when it came from a fresh puddle in the grass instead of the footprints trailing along a concrete hallway. They wore cotton button-ups and overalls to blend in. Even Mother Winter enjoyed having a comfortable peasant dress and headscarf instead of her leather catsuit.

The winters may have been harshly freezing, but it was nothing that the large fireplace and heavy blankets couldn’t fix. One evening, a few days before Christmas, Dr. Faustus arrived with the cans of vitamin soup, bread, fruit, sausages, and a special treat of cocoa. When the 21-year old Libra prepared the hot cocoa with the kettle, the chocolate scent brought everyone into the kitchen.

“I knew that would do the trick.” Dr. Faustus eased himself into the armchair by the fireplace.

“Do we have a mission, Grandpa?” Duke asked. They knew he wasn’t really their grandfather, but he was the closest they had.

“Actually, you have something better. This year, the Barons have decided to be gracious this year and give you a present.” Faustus announced. The children turned to each other and chattered amongst themselves.

“Surely, they meant for us, right? Their real kids?” A teenaged Baron asked Faustus.

“Actually, the present is for all of you, or at least-” He lost their attention in a louder rustle and spoke louder, “Let me finish! There is one present, and that present goes to whoever can get to it first.”

“Where is it?”

“It’s probably in the barn!”

“It’s not here.” Faustus continued, “It’s more of a prize than a present. The heads have discussed it and we’ve decided that you’re all old enough now to compete against each other in Hydra’s first Winter Games.”

Barnie, who was only twelve, gasped, “Games? I love games!”

“Please, anything to get us out of this frozen wasteland!” Duchess said.

“So what do we have to do?” Marnie asked.

“You will receive further instructions tomorrow when the trucks comes to pick you up.” Dr. Faustus answered.

“Wait, how do we know this isn’t another Lord of the Flies?” Hera asked.

Faustus laughed, “Even if it was, you can’t refuse. Consider it a mandatory holiday.”

* * *

  
The next morning, two armored trucks came to take all 16 Winter Soldiers to a USSR cargo aircraft which flew them all the way to a busy town in the mountainous regions of Switzerland. They remained in their farming clothing but bundled up in coats, hats, and scarves. Their point person met them in the center of the city, with individual files for the each of them.

“The first game will be a scavenger hunt. You have all received a list of five items that you will be required to find. Once you have obtained all the items, you will meet with the man pictured in your file at the location specified.” The agent instructed.

“And then we kill him? And then we get the prize?” Hermes jumped to conclusions.

The agent rolled his eyes, “If you kill him, then you won’t get to Part 2.”

“Damn.” Charity muttered to Roman privately, “If I had a face like that, I’d want someone to kill me.”

“When you meet with him, you must hand over everything that was on the list. If you are missing one or got the incorrect item, then you cannot continue until you fix it. Any questions?”

Arnie raised his hand, “Do we get money to buy the items?”

The instructor shook his head, “Now what kind of game would it be if we made this an easy shopping trip? Do what you need to procure the items, but there is one rule. Do not make a scene.”

Scorpio whispered to his sister, “It’s an exercise to test our stealth.”

“Yes, I understood it the first time.” She whispered back.”

“Are we working as a litter or individually?” Prince asked.

“Well, there’s only one present. So if you want to work together, that’s up to you. I don’t care either way.” The instructor said.

With all questions answered, the agent made them line up at the entrance of the market square and blew the whistle to begin the game.

The first item they had to find was an item with their name on it. Most of them decided to keep with their litter and worry about competing for the single prize later. Scorpio and Libra found their items the fastest since it was the late 60’s and astrology the latest craze. They each snuck a small mood ring with their sign engraved on it into their coat pocket. The Olympians were the second fastest. They snuck into a closed bookstore, found a Greek mythology book and ripped out the pages with their names on it.

It being Christmas time, Charity found his name on the local toy donation box next to the plaza’s oversized Christmas tree. The cardboard box had “Choose Charity” in big red letters printed in the center. Charity sighed and pulled out his pocket knife to cut both the words out. If he left one word there it would just look ridiculous. Roman stole a historical magazine advertising the Roman empire on the cover.

Marnie followed the Olympians into the bookstore because she knew she would find her name right away. Her triplet brothers followed behind her straight to the Thriller and Crime section.

“Bingo.” She said as she pulled a copy of “Marnie” off the shelves.

“Well that’s great for you, but what about us?” Barnie asked.

“Look behind the information desk and open the drawer.” She instructed. Barnie did as she said.

“I don’t see anything with my name here.” He said.

“Grab a marker.” She told him.

He did so and came back to hand it to Marnie. She grabbed another copy of the book and wrote over the “M” to replace it with a “B.” She handed that one to Barnie.

“One for you, and…” Marnie pulled one more copy and scratched out the M entirely and handed it to Arnie, “...One for you. Done.”

“Does that count?” Arnie asked.

“It should. It doesn’t say we can’t WRITE our name on it.”

The Bluebloods found a gift shop that sold historical trinkets.

“Do you think they sell those Prince Albert cans here?” Prince asked.

“If they do, you better go grab it.” Princess told him, checking the baby aisle for anything that said “Daddy’s Little Princess.”

Duke grumbled, “This is completely unfair. Rarely do they make merchandise for Dukes and Duchesses.”

“Speak for yourself!” Duchess grinned as she shook a tin of mints with the Grand Duchess Anastasia printed on it, “Sometimes mistranslations work in your favor.”

“Duke, just go to the music store, get a Duke Ellington record and be on your way.” Baron helped him out while carrying a large bust of the Red Baron.

“Baron…” Duke whispered, “How are you going to sneak off with that? You’ll get caught.”

“I’m not sneaking off with it, I’m paying for it.” Baron smiled as he pulled a wallet out, “You can steal five things or you can pick one pocket and pay for all of it.”

Everything else on the list was simple to find: a cookie from a specific bakery, an ad with a model or mascot resembling their mother, something made of silver, and the pin and routing number for someone’s Swiss bank account.

Scorpio and Libra finished their list first. It would have been Roman and Charity who got there first, but for every item, someone got sidetracked.

“Roman, stop eating the cookies and let’s go!”

“Roman, stop gawking at the pin-ups and let’s go!”

“Charity, we only need ONE silver thing, put the rest back!”

“Charity, we just need the account info, put the money back!”

After the hunt, each litter met with the point person who was waiting at an abandoned ski resort. The man was the lift operator, and after they turned in their items, he turned on the machinery and sent them up the jagged mountain for the second game.


	64. The Hydra Baby Christmas Special Part 2

Libra and Scorpio beat the Purebloods to the lift, but the twin boys dropped off their goods just as their paneled pod lift took off on the zipline.

“Ooo, tough luck. Looks like you have to wait for the next one.” The operator told them. Charity didn’t accept that.

The thinner brother bolted through the snow and leaped high enough to catch the lift by grabbing the bottom’s grid. The sudden pull shook the pod, disturbing the Zodiacs inside. Then, an even bigger force shook the pod again and Libra opened the door and popped her head out to check on the ruckus.

“Are you kidding me?” Libra exclaimed as she saw Charity dangling beneath with Roman’s arms wrapped around his twin’s legs, “Get off! You’re going to break it!”

“These pods can take up to 340 kilos, and last time we checked Roman was only 107.” Charity shouted over the churning gears.

“Maybe if you were on the inside, but right now the only thing holding you is the lattice, and that definitely can’t take 107.” Libra said before going back inside and shutting the door.

Charity took a deep breath and let go with one hand, and with gritting teeth clenched a further part of the lattice until his arms were spread in a good V shape to distribute the weight better.

“I’m actually 109 now.” Roman corrected him as he clung to Charity’s stringy legs.

“I can tell.” Charity’s voice strained.

The lift dropped them off a significant distance away from the peak. Roman and Charity beat the Zodiacs to the next game by letting go just before the pod stopped and running to the station where rows of backpacks were waiting for them. They all contained basic mountain climbing supplies, an extra coat, and a note with their objective: Get to the top.

As they all fastened their harnesses and clipped their ropes, Charity tied himself closely to Roman.

“I’m gonna need to hitch a ride with you. My arms hurt.” Charity explained as he jumped on Roman’s back.

The next lift ride brought the Olympians to the mountain station. They quickly set up their gear and set up a plan.

“Follow behind them, but not too closely. They’re already working on finding the best route up, but you don’t want to be right under them if they fall.” Hera said.

  
“Ugh, if they wanted us to go through another Lord of the Flies, they could have just told us. This isn’t more magical just because it’s on Christmas.” Hades groaned as he took his first climbing step.

Although Hera started first, the boys eventually overtook her as they climbed higher.

“Watch your breathing.” Zeus advised her, “The air is thinner as we reach higher elevations.”

“I know that!” Hera shot back as she slowly gripped the rocks above her.

“You know...this would be a lot easier for you…” Hermes said, “...if you hadn’t burned your hand, what, two weeks ago?”

“Shut up!” Hera yelled as she pulled herself up. Her face was red and fuming, and she used that aggression to crawl up the jagged rocks at a furious pace.

The Bluebloods stuffed themselves in the already weakened lift with Baron and Duke nudging elbows and Prince’s face pressed against the glass.

“Get off my foot!”

“Stop moving!”

Once they reached the spot, their alliance dissolved and every one in that litter made their own route up the mountain. Duchess, Prince and Princess followed the trails already left behind, but Baron and Duke took it upon themselves to walk alongside the mountain and make new paths.

The Rhyming Scheme was the last to make it up the mountain, and they almost didn’t make it, because when the lift began to screech and the ceiling folded in on itself, they knew that it was on its last leg. They quickly kicked off the door and climbed up to the zipline wire. The pod fell beneath Arnie’s feet before he could grab the wire, so Barnie and Marnie each reached for his arm to catch him before he fell. From there, they swung him up to their level until they were all perched on the thick coiled wire that continued up the mountain. To make things a little faster, they crawled along the wire from underneath like sloths. Once they actually got to the climbing station, they tied themselves together and moved as one unit, like a caterpillar weaving its way through the rocks.

At the peak of the mountain, the Winter Soldiers found a deep chasm, like the mouth of a volcano. The surrounding edges had wetsuits lined up with one glow stick each.

“You don’t think they’re asking us to jump into lava, right? Even we can’t survive that.” Duchess asked, reluctant to change in the freezing air.

“We can test it out first.” Duke grabbed dropped it into the dark abyss. After several seconds, they heard a distinct watery plop, “Seems fine to me. Dive in.”

“Besides,” Princess added as she quickly zipped up her suit, “The Purebloods and the Zodiacs already took their suits, and if it was dangerous, they would have found out because Charity or Scorpio would have thrown the other in to see and the rest would have bailed.”

They all cracked their glow sticks and jumped in at their own discretion. The fall itself was a fun thrill, and as the opening at the top got farther away, the light faded and the darkness set it. They couldn’t even see the water when they splashed. The glow stick only provided a small diameter of light and the only way they could swim was down.

Slowly, they spotted the glows of their siblings ahead of them. From here though, there was no race to the finish. There was only the search for the final prize. Eventually all 16 glow sticks, ranging from red to green to blue illuminated the water in scattered lights. And as the dove deeper into the chasm, they saw even more lights that coated the rocks like paint. The water grew a lot brighter when they made it to the caverns of bioluminescent algae.

They swam around in circles, searching every crevice for a hint of where or what the treasure could be. Finally, Scorpio spotted a small tin case tucked between the rocks of the cavern walls. The red painted Hydra logo confirmed it was what he was looking for. He waved it around proudly but he couldn’t exactly express his excitement while holding his breath, but nearby he saw the bright lights of day that outshined the dull glow of the algae. He swam to find the pocket of air that lead to a small open window in the side of the mountain. Everyone who saw Scorpio scurry off with the prize alerted the rest and swam after him.

Scorpio pulled himself out of the cavern pool shook the water off of him before slowly opening the container. Inside a layer of padded foam was a set of keys. Libra walked up behind him wringing her hair dry.

“Keys? For what? A safe?” She asked.

Scorpio shrugged and walked out of the mountain’s window, finding his true prize waiting on the leveled ground: a new Mil Mi-8 Hip helicopter. With the keys from the tin, he was able to unlock the door to the cockpit and pilot it himself.

“Shouldn’t we wait for everyone to get here first?” Libra asked as she boarded Scorpio’s personal aircraft.

“Mmm…” Scorpio thought about it for a moment, “Nah, they lost fair and square. They can take the long way home.”

Scorpio cackled as he watched the others come of the caverns soaked and shivering before he flew off.


	65. Familiar Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma returns to the base, but cannot breathe easy just yet. The Winter Soldiers and their current commander receive an offer from a mysterious stranger.

“Welcome home, Agent Simmons.” Coulson greeted Jemma as soon as she stepped back onto base. Coming back to the S.H.I.E.L.D base felt like a gasp of air after being submerged in cold scum-filled waters.

“Director Coulson…” Jemma smiled warmly but quickly broke into a quick cough as her throat stung in soreness.

“I’m glad to have you back.” He looked at her neck and saw the fresh red-spotted ring around it. His smile turned to concern and he asked her, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, it’s just a little tender. I’m just glad to be alive.” Jemma laughed, “If it hadn’t been for Agent Morse-”

“Bobbi.” The tall dark-haired agent who she was getting acquainted with reminded her.

“Bobbi, right,” Jemma continued, “If it hadn’t had been for Bobbi, I would have never had made it out. Probably be brainwashed, happy to comply to who knows what. She’s amazing.”

“That’s why I’ve asked her to join the team.” Coulson said.

Jemma was elated, because not only would she get to see her new friend around frequently, but also had someone who she could relate to about the horrors of spying in Hydra. Maybe Bobbi hadn’t been as terrified for her life as Jemma was, but it was still more than the others would understand. Maybe she even knew more about some of the Winter Soldiers.

As her eyes wandered, she spotted the one person who she wanted to tell everything and keep all of this from at the same time. Fitz meekly looked at her from the back of the laboratory like a scared animal. Jemma teared up in anticipation.

“Go ahead.” Coulson told her.

Jemma carefully walked into the laboratory and shut the door behind her. She had so many regrets since she last saw him. If he didn’t hate her already for abandoning him, he would for the things she did with Libra to climb the ranks. And how the memory of her heated her almost as much as it frightened her. To tell him about it would break his heart, but keeping it from him would just fester inside her. She decided she could live with that for at least another day.

“Hi Fitz.” She put on her usual smile.

He shuffled with his fingers and stared at her with wide eyes, but only quietly muttered, “Simmons...Is that really you?”

She laughed, as she usually did to kill tension, “Of course it is. Who else would it be?”

Fitz nodded and clicked his tongue, but didn’t have anything else to say. She slowly approached him, step by step, like walking on hot coals.

“How have you been?” She said, keeping her cheery tone, but felt so artificial she might as well still be undercover. She didn’t know how much he had recovered since she left him. Watching him struggle to babble out his brilliant ideas had cut her to the bone, especially since if he had chosen to have a little self-preservation, he would have taken the oxygen for himself as they ascended from the bottom of the ocean. Then he would be okay, and she would be in his condition, or worse.

But the fact that he sacrificed himself for her must have meant that he loved her. He loved her, and she abandoned him. She left because it hurt to watch him suffer, but now she realized the guilt from making him suffer alone was worse. She felt so disgusting and for a moment entertained the idea that she belonged in Hydra.

* * *

 

“The lab should be dismantled within the hour.” Bakshi reported to Dr. Whitehall. Since discovering Jemma was a mole, they had to relocate their operations before S.H.I.E.L.D agents swarmed the place. Since the leak, they had to be careful of gaining attention, because Captain America himself or his gaudy comrades could come marching in and lay waste to all their work.

“And the rest of the facility?” Whitehall asked.

“Not long after.”

A group of Winter Soldiers gathered behind the desk, composed of Wolfe, Charity, Desdemona, Lear, Scorpio and Libra. Beethoven was busy on moving duty.

“I knew something was suspicious about her from the beginning. I could’ve taken care of her sooner if Charity hadn’t fried my arm!” Mona exclaimed.

“Just like you took care of Agent Morse?” Wolfe scoffed.

“You don’t get to judge! You weren’t even there for any of it.” Mona shot back.

“Because I was getting a location on Mama and giving that to Roman so he could go find her. You’re welcome.” Wolfe said.

“Don’t start the congratulations just yet. Not until she’s back here, safe and sound.” Charity said.

“Yeah, plus, I would’ve finished off Morse but I could tell that Libra was sabotaging me, just because she was one of her dumb crushes.” Mona complained.

“That wasn’t why,” Libra corrected her, “I’m tracking her. They found our base, so it’s only fair we find theirs.”

“Well, you could’ve told me that before instead of making me look like a damn idiot!” Mona fumed.

Lear held Mona’s shoulder and tried to calm her down and refocus her attention, “The base isn’t important. The research is important, and I’ve got our most confidential and dangerous project safely stowed away at the Ravencroft, okay? So after this Obelisk business is over, we can work on that.”

Then, a man carrying a metal briefcase abruptly entered from the elevator.

“Couldn’t help but notice all the moving boxes.” The man said smiling, “I’m sorry for the interruption, this will only take a second.”

“Remove him, at once!” Bakshi ordered loudly.

“Please, lower your voice, let’s all try to keep our heads about us.” The man said, still grinning, “Let’s all try and stay calm.”

The Winter Soldiers didn’t move, but two of the guards approached the man and were promptly stabbed or knocked out. Then the whole lot prepared for a counterattack, but Dr. Whitehall halted them.

The disheveled man panted and set his briefcase on the table, spinning it and revealing the contents, “I hear you’ve been looking for this.”

Cushioned in black foam, the crooked metallic artifact shimmered. Scorpio silently gasped and whispered loudly,

“The Obelisk…”

“In its native language, it’s call the Diviner.” The stranger explained, “One of many little details I know about this thing.”

“Can you tell me how to use it?” Dr. Whitehall asked.

The stranger smiled again, “Better yet, I’ll teach you how to survive it.”

Libra stepped in, “And why would you do that?”

“Everyone here shares a common enemy…A guy named Phil Coulson.” He said, making every ear perk up, “I thought together...maybe we could kill him, along with, you know...everyone else.”


	66. The Promise

Stephanie went weak as Roman wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He was so big that her face could only reach his chest. 

“Did you come to take me back?” She asked. She knew that even if she wanted to fight him off, she physically could not. Roman was everything she was but more of it. She loved him, but was terrified of what he might want to do. 

“I wanted to see you.” He let her go but kept his hand on hers, “The real you.” 

“I don’t even know if there is a real me.” She said softly, “And if there was, you probably wouldn’t recognize her.” 

“Of course I would, because she’s still my mother.” Roman insisted. 

Stephanie sat silently, looking at nothing. Roman moved his hand from her hand to softly stroking her hair. 

“You know...Charity used to tell me that he remembered a time when you were different.” Roman said, “He said that one of his earliest memories is of you smiling at him, but not like how Mother Winter smiles. Was that the real you?” 

Stephanie’s eyes watered, and she muttered, “I don’t know…” 

Roman added, “He also said that you promised to save us.” 

Stephanie’s small tears turned into a heavy stream. She collapsed in her seat, burying her face in his lap. 

“I’m sorry...I’m so sorry.” She bawled. 

“Mama, what could you possibly have to be sorry for?” Roman picked up her face in his large hands. 

“I couldn’t keep that promise. I didn’t save you from anything…” She weeped, “I wasn’t strong enough to get you out before it was too late.” 

“What makes you think it’s too late?” Roman asked. 

“Baby...you’re still in Hydra. So many of my children are still a part of that...and I can’t even be angry at them for it when it’s all they’ve ever known.” Stephanie wiped her eyes. 

“Hydra is just a name, Mama. We can change it. You can change it. Come back with me, and we can reform Hydra to whatever you want, and no one will ever hurt you again.” Roman offered. 

“It’s not that simple.” She shook her head, “It won’t undo all the evil that Hydra’s done, or everything we were made to do.” 

Roman sighed and took his hands off of her, “You’re right, it won’t. I know you wish you could go back and stop it all from happening. That you wish I was never born-” 

“Roman!” She said sternly, “Don’t you ever say that to me, understand?” 

He grimaced like a punished child. 

“You have no idea what I want, because I don’t even know what I want. Am I not allowed to love you and not wish I was raped at the same time? Because that’s how I feel. I wish that somehow you could still be my child without being your father’s, but that’s not how things work. I wish that for all my children. But I just have to live with the fact that Hydra gave you to me, and-” She went off until Roman touched her cheek again. 

“But Mama...Hydra didn’t give us to you, it’s the other way around. You gave us to Hydra.” He smiled at her, “And now you can take us back.” 

Stephanie felt his words in her chest and it made her tears stop. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down for a strong embrace. She really needed to hear that, especially from him. 

“If anyone needs to apologize, it should be me.” Roman said, “I couldn’t protect you, either.” 

“Oh baby,” She cooed softly, “You did what you could, and that’s all you should do. We should’ve learned by now that you can’t always make things go your way, no matter how strong you are. And you can’t blame yourself for what bad people choose to do.” 

“So is there nothing I can do to convince you to come back with me?” Roman asked. 

Stephanie shook her head with an assuring smile, “Not in a million years.” 

“I had a feeling.” Roman smiled with her, “Guess I failed my mission.”

“It happens.” Stephanie patted his arm, “So who do you have to give the back news to? Do you still have a handler?” 

Roman sighed, “You’re not going to like this, but Uncle Werner is our boss right now.”   
Stephanie shuttered. In her mind, she poked her bruises by ranking her children’s fathers from least awful to abominable. Werner Reinhardt was third from the bottom, only beaten by Dr. Zola and the Red Skull himself. 

“You know, if you wanted,” Stephanie suggested, “You could pluck his head off with your fingers. I wouldn’t approve of such brutality, but you’re a grown man, so it’s your choice, don’t let me stop you.” 

“Oh, I want to.” Roman said, “But Charity feels honor bound to him. He says he saved his life. He said our father was going to kill him when he was born if Reinhardt hadn’t interfered.” 

“Tch,” Stephanie scoffed, “You don’t get to control someone because you saved their life. That’s not honor, that’s slavery. And I thought Charity had a stronger will than that.” 

“He does.” Roman agreed, “I think Charity is just using him for his resources. Once he’s not useful anymore, Charity will probably dispose of him. I don’t know though, I’m not the smart one.” 

“So if I don’t go back with you…” Stephanie asked, “What will happen to you?” 

“Well, I know that everyone will be disappointed.” Roman said, “and Charity’s going to be angry, but I can’t think of anything they can actually do to me.” 

“What if you don’t go back at all?” Stephanie asked, “I took out my tracker. You can take out yours, too. You can start over. A strong and handsome man like you can easily find someone to settle down with and live a happy life.” 

Roman laughed, “I don’t know if I could ever find someone who makes me as happy as you.” 

“Still, consider it.” Stephanie said. 

“Is that why you’re in Paris? Did you find someone here?” Roman asked. 

Stephanie didn’t want to lie to Roman, but she knew that she couldn’t just expose her gracious hosts. 

“No, I just love the beauty of this city.” She swung her feet, “It helps clear my thoughts.” 

“I like the haircut by the way.” Roman said, “It’s cute.” 

“Thank you,” Stephanie smiled, “I tried to do it myself but then I gave up and went to a professional.” 

“I’m really happy you’re okay, Mama.” Roman hugged her one more time before he had to leave, “I won’t tell anyone where you are, but I really wish there was some way to keep contact with you.” 

Stephanie kissed him, “When you really need me, I’ll be there. I promise.”


	67. Fill In the Blanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Bucky recuperates, the truth of how he came to be the new Captain America begins to unfold.

_1945_

Peggy looked for Bucky after the mission on the train. They had successfully captured Dr. Zola, but lost someone far more precious in return. She needed to make he wasn’t doing anything reckless in his grief. Yes, Stephanie’s death destroyed them all, but if they didn’t complete the mission, then over a million more deaths would follow. They had to use their grief to fuel their resolve, but Peggy knew that was easier said than done.

She found him in the tattered remains of the tavern where they celebrated the liberation of the Hydra camp that contained him as well as the rest of the Howling Commandos. She remembered walking in to speak with Stephanie and saw the two of them so deeply in love that it made the whole room seem brighter. With her gone, the air grew dimmer around him as he pulled a surviving bottle of scotch off the top shelf. Peggy looked around at the splintered tables and chairs scattered along the floorboards. In the corner, she could see the ivory keys poking out of the ashes of the piano.

Bucky unscrewed the top of the bottle and drank straight from the neck. He gulped it down without even trying to savor the taste.

“Sergeant…” Peggy addressed him formally at first, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t need to speak to Agent Carter right now, he needed his friend Peggy.

“Bucky…” She softened her voice. He looked at her, but said nothing until he finished the whole container.

“You know, I used to go under the table from just 3 shots of this.” Bucky slurred and wiped the burning alcohol from his lips, “But now I’m on the third bottle and I’m just now starting to feel something.”

“The experiments-” Peggy started to explain, but Bucky continued.

“Did something to me, I know. They tried to make me into what she was. Perfect. What they didn’t know is that it only worked on her because...she was already perfect.” Bucky smiled sadly, “All Zola did was make it harder for me to get drunk.”

“I’m so sorry, Bucky.” Peggy said.

“Don’t be.” Bucky shook his head, “You’re not the one who broke your promise.”

Bucky leaned against the bar and fiddled with the brass band on his finger, running his thumb over the glass stone hastily wedged in it.

“Steph’s mother...Sarah...got sick, and it got to the point where we knew she wasn’t going to pull through. She was the only family Stephanie had, and without her…” Bucky’s tears dripped off his chin, “I couldn’t let Stephanie be alone. I always knew I was going to propose to her from the day I met her, but this was my last chance to get Sarah’s blessing. It’s tough, asking a woman on her deathbed for her daughter’s hand. I went into her room and started off by asking if she needed anything. She just told me to get a glass of water and to grab her pillbox from the drawer.”

Peggy walked over to him and folded her hands over the bar, listening intently.

Bucky dragged his palm down his face and inhaled one big congested sniffle, “I go to her bedside table, and I set down the water and the pillbox. She tells me to open the box for her, so I do. Inside…” He pulled his ring off his finger, “is this ring here and another one just like it. She tells me ‘That’s what you came for, isn’t it? They’re yours...if you promise me one thing.’”

Bucky set the ring down, “Promise me you’ll protect her...so she’ll never be alone.”

Bucky walked away, leaving it on the counter. Peggy watched him leave and then put it in her pocket.

* * *

  
When they finally cornered Johann Schmidt at the last Hydra base, Bucky insisted they charge in through the front door, because it was what Stephanie would do. Before they left, Peggy had something to give to Bucky.

“No.” Bucky said flat out as soon as he saw it in Peggy’s hands.

“You need all the protection you can get.” Peggy insisted as she pressed the shield against Bucky’s chest.

“I can’t use this…” Bucky pushed it back towards her.

“If she wanted anyone to have it, it would be you.” Peggy forced it into his grip and let go, letting him know she wasn’t going to take no for an answer on this one.

Bucky exhaled deeply as he lost this one.

“And take this, too.” Peggy grabbed his hand and slipped his wedding ring back on his finger, “You did everything you could to protect her. Now let her protect you.”

* * *

  
“Come in, this is SGT Barnes, do you read me?” Bucky tuned in on the radio.

“Bucky! Are you alright?” Peggy jumped in to respond.

“Peggy, Schmidt’s dead!” Bucky reported. He didn’t sound satisfied on account of the red bastard was seemingly torn apart by his own power source before Bucky could bash his face inward like he wanted to.

“What about the plane?” Peggy asked.

“I can’t land it safely, there’s too many explosives. I’m gonna force it down into the water.” Bucky explained his whole plan coldly.

“Y-You don’t have to do that. Hang on, I’ll get Howard on the line, we can figure this ou-”

“No time. If I wait any longer, a lot of people are gonna die.”

“No! You can’t. There has to be another way!” Peggy exclaimed, her heart rushing in fear. She just lost one friend today, she didn’t want to lose another.

“It’s okay, Peggy. This is how it’s supposed to be.” Bucky thrusted the controls into a downward dive, “You never got to say goodbye, so I’ll tell her for you when I see her.”

“Bucky, don’t you-” Peggy scolded him until she heard the click of a lost connection, “BUCKY!”

Peggy pressed every button and dial to try to get the signal back, but the communication was broken from the other side.

“Damn it, Barnes! Damn it all…” She threw her fist down and sank to her knees, covering her tear-stricken face.

* * *

  
The ice deterred the impact of the bombs on board, but the explosion was still enough to fracture the plane. Snow fell in through the cracks as the aircraft embedded itself further into the icy banks. Freezing water poured like a waterfall, mixing with the snow in a slush.

Bucky lay in the corner of the plane, his eyes blurring as he drifted in and out of consciousness while the water poured in. His body refused to move. His eyelids grew heavy. Before they shut, he swore he could see a small figure in the corner of his eye. A girl. A small lady in a white and blue floral dress, with bouncy waves in her blonde hair. She skipped merrily towards him. He weakly reached his arm out to her before the snow washed over his body. And then everything went black.


End file.
